The Eleven Doctors
by NancyBG-OldMaidWhovian
Summary: Amy finds herself traveling with the Doctor...but not HER Doctor. In celebration for the programme's upcoming 50th anniversary, and, this year being MY 30th anniversary as a Doctor Who fanatic.
1. Chapter 1

The Eleven Doctors

Chapter 1

"Whoo-hoo!" Amy yelled jubilantly.

"Surfs up, dude!" Rory called out to the Doctor, grinning and giving him the 'hang ten' sign with his free hand.

Hanging on to dear life by a safety rail, Rory and Amy watched as the TARDIS swung and swayed through a multi-coloured star field. The Doctor had thrown the door open wide, and they all could see the shifting myriad of colours floating past them in shades of sapphire blue, tangerine, forest green and ruby red.

Surrounding the Doctor's faithful time ship was the yellow glow of a sonic star wave. The TARDIS rode it like a California surfer, bobbing and swaying in rhythm with the tide of cosmic star dust. The Beach Boys "_Surfin' USA_" was blaring out from the console room's tannoy. Laughing with utter delight, the Doctor was busy with what he'd come to love doing the most: experiencing the universe through the reactions of his human companions.

The central column churned away, its frenzied grinding noise competing with the music. The Doctor was racing around like a mad scientist waking his creation, all arms and legs waving about. He seemed to be everywhere at once. One moment he was on one side of the controls, the next he was on the other. Then, the Doctor seemed to be virtually hanging upside down from the console. All the while, he was busily pulling levers, pushing buttons and throwing switches.

As the wave slowed and gradually came to an end, the Doctor stilled his motions and became more precise and calm in his actions. With sparkling eyes and a wide smile plastered to his face, he was preparing to shut the door and take his ship back into the space-time vortex.

Without warning, the control room lights dimmed and the emergency lights kicked in. The klaxon bell began to sound its deep, ominous warning of impending doom.

There was a flash of white light outside the doors. Its brilliance lit up the control room, making them all cringe and shut their eyes against the painful glare. At the same time there was a tremendous boom which shook the TARDIS. The console simultaneously gave a bang, blowing up in a shower of sparks and white smoke. Rory dimly heard Amy scream, as he was flung violently to the floor. The TARDIS door slammed shut. He reached out to grab hold of his wife.

"What the hell was that?" The Doctor said to himself, as he too was driven to the floor. "That sounded exactly like a sub-transitory chronosonic boom. That could only mean..." His eyes went wide in panic as he lurched upwards to grab on to the console. "No! It can't be!"

"Doctor!" A worried Rory called out, as he vainly tried to stand while the TARDIS continued to careen out of control.

"Not now, Rory!" The Doctor answered back. "Major, major emergency here. No time to stop for a cuppa' and a chit-chat I'm afraid!"

"But, Amy..."

"Later, Rory! The whole of space and time is about to collapse. I think I'm just a bit busy at the moment." The Doctor shouted. His panicked hands scrambled amid the smoking console trying to re-gain control of his wildly bucking ship, while he did his best not to be thrown across the room.

"What's happening?" Rory shouted back.

"Two TARDIS' entering the vortex at the exact same point in precisely the same instant in time. That's not supposed to happen. Yet somehow it has, and if I can't stabilize this mess...sorry old girl...I mean, if I can't stabilize this ship and get us out of here..."

"We're all going to die. Right, I know." Rory said. "It's just that Amy has..."

"Yes, yes, Rory. I'm guessing that Amy has gone and done something very foolish. But there won't be an Amy any longer if you don't shut up and let me concentrate." The Doctor bit back at him, as a part of the console blew, nearly sending a shower sparks into the Doctor's eyes. Quickly averting his face, the Doctor's hand reached far up on the controls and tweaked a knob.

All of the sudden, everything stopped. Everything. Rory's mind kept working, but he couldn't speak or move. Could not even blink his eyes. The Doctor also seemed to be likewise frozen in place, as well as the TARDIS console.

Then, very gradually, Rory was able to blink one eye, then the other. He scrunched up his face. Felt his lips move in slow motion. "Dooooctooor-"

"S'rightRoryI'llfixit." And in a flash of a nano-second, time had suddenly sped up so much, that Rory could barely understand the Doctor's words. He gaped as the Doctor's body and hands tore around the console in quick-time. However, before Rory could say or do anything more, things abruptly returned to normal.

"What the...?" A confused Rory said, as he walked shakily over to stand beside the Doctor.

"Time recoil." The Doctor explained, "Happens when the inter-spacial gnomonitor accidentally loops temporal feedback around the mid-phase destabilizer circuits. Causes some unusual side effects, but it's essentially harmless. Think of it as a backfiring carburetor...well, not a carburetor. More like a hiccup. No, not a hiccup either. But think of it as a hiccup, if it helps you at all." He turned to face Rory. "What were you saying about Amy?"

"She's gone, Doctor." A breathless Rory answered. "There was that white light, the door slammed shut, and Amy was just...gone."

All the breath abruptly seemed to go out of the Doctor. He stood stock still. His face went quite pale. Startled at the Doctor's sudden change of expression, Rory felt his stomach turn to a block of ice.

When the Doctor finally spoke, it was only to whisper, "Oh, Amy." For a breif moment he silently regarded Rory with sorrowed and tired looking eyes. Then he managed to choke out the words, "I don't know how to tell you, Rory. I don't want to tell you. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Doctor, please..." Rory pleaded, dreading to hear the words he knew in his heart the Doctor was about to say. Yet, knowing that he must.

"She's gone, Rory. And...there's nothing I can do to save her this time. Amy's been sucked out nto the time-space vortex. No one can survive that. Not even a Time Lord."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Amy heard herself, but it seemed like it was coming from someone else. It was a single, gut-wrenching scream which lingered in the pit of her stomach, then slowly worked its its way upwards from her lungs to her throat. Her mind was on fire, burning as if her naked brain had been heaped with hot coals. Amy's body felt like it was being ripped apart, torn asunder while she was still fully conscious.

Still, there was a majesty and a beauty surrounding her which seemed utterly impossible. She saw the whole of time and space. Everything and anything which had ever been and which could yet be. It was beautiful and terrible, sweeping and epic, heart-rending and joyous, all at the same time.

"Oh, I do beg your pardon." Came a polite, surprised voice, drifting distantly from somewhere out of the clouds of her confused, hurting mind. "I didn't see you there."

'What?' Amy thought. Then realized that the pain had gone. So had the visions of Time. She slowly cranked open one eye. She stared muzzily at the ceiling. Ceiling? It was white and seemed far, far above her. All around her she had the impression of white walls, as well. Was this heaven? Amy turned her head to one side and instantly regretted it.

"Don't try to move. You'll be alright. At least, I think you'll be alright. Truth is, I really don't know for sure. How did you get in here? That should be impossible, you know. Though I suppose in a universe where anything is possible, nothing is impossible." Said the gentle male voice.

Amy suddenly realized that it had a wee bit of a Scottish burr to it. Was she in hospital in Scotland, then? She moaned and shut her eyes again. Her stomach was queasy and her head was pounding. Did she have a hangover? Food poisoning? Stomach flu?

"I've no idea how you got into my TARDIS, young lady. But, it must have been one doozy of a party." The man said with a trace of good humour in his voice.

"TARDIS?" Amy's eyes flew open. She tried to lift up her head, the room began to spin crazily around, as vertigo took hold of her.

"Yes, well, I suppose introductions are in order." The man said. "I'm the Doctor. And you're in my ship. It's called the TARDIS. That stands for..."

"Time And Relative Dimensions In Space." Amy muttered. "Yes, yes, I know. You've explained that to me already, Doctor...so I don't have amnesia, apparently. But what's with the accent? Are you mocking me?"

"I'm sorry. Have we met? You'll have to forgive my manners. I try to remember everyone, but sometimes the old mind slips a bit. Not getting any younger, I'm afraid." The Doctor told her with a kind smile.

Amy opened her eyes again. Leaning over her was a man. He wasn't the Doctor, though. This man had a small, genial face. His blue eyes, though showing concern, also twinkled with a trace of humour.

"Who are you?" She whispered, confused. "You're not the Doctor."

"Actually, I am. Now relax. This won't hurt a bit." Kneeling down beside Amy, he took her pulse, gazing at her thoughtfully. She suddenly had the feeling like he was seeing right into her mind. "However, I have the sudden feeling that I'm not _you're_ Doctor. Tell me, which regeneration are you with?"

"Regena-what?" Amy shut her eyes, confused. Her headache was getting worse.

The 'Doctor' sat back and thoughtfully speculated, "Two TARDIS' accidentally collide inside the Space-Time Vortex. And I suddenly find myself with a visitor whose popped in out of nowhere. Logic says you had to come from somewhere. And the only somewhere that could be, is the other TARDIS. Another version of myself. Well, I assume another version. Unless I that was the future me...I mean this me in my own future, and I simply haven't met you yet. I do hope I'm not confusing you."

"Er—no. I think I get it..._Doctor_. I'm..." her befuddled mind had to think about that for a second, "Amy. Amy Pond. I think. I'm with...let me see...what did River tell me? Oh, yeah. Your _eleventh_ regeneration. And you're...?"

"I see!" He frowned, "Then I must be getting on a bit, mustn't I?"

"Actually," Amy said, smiling despite the pain, "you're eleventh self is very...fit."

"This is me in my seventh regeneration. Pleasure to meet you Miss Pond." The little man said, tipping his little white hat to her politely.

"It's Mrs. Pond. Or, Williams. Or...whichever." She informed him, "But you can call me Amy."

"Ah. Getting domestic in my old age, am I? Hmm—not sure how I feel about that. Still, you seem quite nice, so I guess I must know what I'm doing."

"Erm-thanks." Amy sighed. Then she heard him get up and move away.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"Be back in a tick, don't worry." He answered reassuringly.

"How did I get here?"

"Not sure." he called out from somewhere nearby. "Possibly something to do with the TARDIS' safety protocols. I'm afraid I haven't glanced at the manual in quite some time."

Moments later he was back, and Amy felt a warm, soft blanket being thrown over her. Her head was gently raised and then lowered onto a small pillow. She felt her head raised again, and a glass put to her lips. She gratefully took a sip of water. Until then, Amy didn't realize how terribly thirsty she'd been. The water was so cold and pure tasting, it was like drinking right from a glacier in the middle of the wilderness.

"Don't want to move you. Your pulse is a little fast. I should wait to get up for a while if I were you. Rest is a great healer, I think you'll find." The little man told her, as he settled her back on her pillow. She still couldn't think of him yet as the Doctor.

"Now that we have you resting more comfortably, I'm going to go and see if I can find a way to get you back to your own time." he said softly. "I'll only be a few feet away at the console if you need anything, alright?"

"I'll be fine, don't worry about me-arrrgh!"

Amy's body spasmed without warning. She curled into a ball and cried out as a fiery pain wracked her body. Amy managed to crank open her eyes a little. To her astonishment, the tips of her fingers seemed to be glowing.

"What's happening?" She managed to call out.

Looking very grave, the Doctor well knew what was happening. What was going to happen.

"I'm sorry, but you were exposed, however briefly, to Vortex energy. Not a good thing, I'm afraid. Especially for a human. But don't worry. I've got a plan."

"What's that?" She asked, unsure if she really wanted to know. The Doctor's plans could get a bit complicated, sometimes. If not downright screwy.

"I'm going to activate Emergency Protocol Number 378." He said, moving over to the small, white octagonal console in the centre of the room.

"And what's that when it's at home?" Amy wondered aloud.

"I'm going to summon the help of all of my past a future selves. The only way to get you back to your own time, is for every single one of us to pitch in and operate this particular TARDIS at the same exact time."

"What! Isn't that dangerous? What about the whole not crossing your own time line thing?" Amy exclaimed.

"Yes, but I have no choice." He said grimly. "If I don't do this Amy Pond, you're going to burn and die."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"No Donna, not in there!" Mrs. Noble shouted from the kitchen. "In the bedroom! Honestly! You'd think you'd been raised by someone else. The way you behave, sometimes." She muttered muttered crossly. Loud enough for Donna to hear.

Sharing a good-natured eye roll with Wilf, Donna caved in and took their coats from where she'd left them on the arm of the sofa. Heaving a martyred sigh she carted them into her bedroom, and threw them on the bed like a petulant child.

The two of them had just been 'up the hill' to do some star-gazing. In reality, they were using it as an excuse for Donna to tell her granddad all about her life since she began travelling with the Doctor.

"It's nearly tea time. Go and wash you two. And then you can help me set the table." Ordered Sylvia, Donna's mum.

"Sometimes I think your mum could pass as one'a them aliens you've been tellin' me about, Donna." Wilf whispered to her, as they took turns washing their hands in the loo sink. "What were they called? Sontarans? She's always shoutin' and orderin' me about. Had a sergeant like her, durin' the war. Only he was a whole lot quieter."

"I _have_ to shout, the way you two disappear off on your own all the time." Sylvia said, poking her head in the door. "The roast will get cold if you don't get a move on. What's a Sontaran? That a new kind of Japanese car or something?"

"Er—yeah. New car model. Right. The Sontaran. Very energy efficient. Gets twenty-one kilometers to the liter. You'll love it." Donna quickly agreed. She made it her policy not to tell her mum about what she really did with the Doctor.

Just then the doorbell rang. Breathing a sigh of relief, Donna bolted past her mum and Wilf. "I'll get it!"

"Whoever that is Donna, you tell them they can come back after tea time!" Her mum told her.

"I'll just go and remind her, shall I?" Said Wilf, quickly inching his way past his daughter, trying to make a quick getaway before Sylvia could find something else to scold him over.

Throwing open the front door, Donna breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hallo, Donna! Good to see you again, Wilf." The Doctor said, a smile lighting up his face.

"A pleasure to see you again as well, sir!" Wilf saluted. Not knowing that he was the only one the Doctor had ever accepted a salute from in over nine hundred years. Looking back over his shoulder, Wilf said in a whisper, "Better keep it down, you two. Don't want you-know-who to know you're here, Doctor."

"Very good advice, Wilf." The Doctor nodded sagely.

"Donna?" Came her mum's voice. It was coming towards them. "Who is it?"

Donna and Wilf saw the Doctor visibly wince. He mumbled something under his breath about never landing on a Sunday.

"We've gotta' go, Donna. Sorry she has to leave you so soon, Wilf." The Doctor aplogized hurriedly.

"Why? What's going on?" Donna asked, puzzled. She'd only just arrived back home for a visit a couple of hours ago. Now he wanted her to leave again?

"Donna? Your dinner is getting cold!" Sylvia called out, closer this time. "Whoever it is, they can come back later."

"Distress call. From the past. In a bit of a rush. Parked the TARDIS on the meter. Don't want to get her towed." He rattled off to her. He'd already turned away and was trotting down the pavement, his long coat tails flaring out behind him.

"You go on, Sweetheart." Wilf told Donna with an understanding smile. "I'll make your excuses to your mum."

After giving her granddad a grateful hug, Donna ran off to catch up with the Doctor. She found him in the next street, unlocking the TARDIS door.

"Distress call? From who?" Donna asked him.

"From me." The Doctor answered.

Meanwhile, inside another TARDIS, another Doctor was frowning as he leaned over the console. He was reading a message scrolling across a tiny screen set into a small control panel. The clear perspex covering over the short central column showed no movement. The TARDIS was parked in damp, foggy scrap yard in London.

This Doctor was an old man with mid-length swept back gray hair. He was dressed in an old-fashioned black frock coat. He straightened up and scowled. "No, no, no! Impossible! I'm not going to do it! I have better things to do than to visit with myself. And what would Susan think? Me leaving her here on her own, amongst these primitive people? No, It won't do. Won't do at all, I say."

Despite his grumblings to the contrary, the Doctor read a further message. He shook his head and tutted. "Oh alright, I suppose I must." He scolded the screen, as if the other Doctor was there in front of him, "But you had better be right. I won't have myself traipsing about on some wild goose chase."

Having decided what to do, the Doctor didn't waste any time. He threw a switch on the console and the central column began to heave and grown, churning up and down.

Hands grasping the lapels of his suit, the Doctor watched the departure with pride in his ship. She was a fine old machine, even if her chameleon circuit had gotten stuck recently. The TARDIS could no longer change its appearance to blend in with its surroundings. It was stuck in the shape of a London police phone box. Oh well, he could always fix that later.

Right now though, one of his future selves had made a mess of things, and he was needed to set it right. The rings of the Space-Time Vortex glowed red as the original version of the Doctor sped off into the future to help save the universe.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sweat rolled down the Doctor's face as he made his way though a thick jungle landscape. He'd been on the run for hours. His light brown curly hair lay plastered to his forehead. The Doctor's breath heaved as his keen blue eyes searched the map in his hand for some point of reference.

Then he spied what he was looking for! A set of tall palm-like trees in the shape of a big X. Looking up, he could see the dark crossed trunks, their magenta coloured fronds waving invitingly in the humid tropical breeze. Beckoning him on.

That meant that a few hundred meters beyond them, hidden by the jungle foliage, lay The Most Worthy Temple of Azradeem. The place where the Doctor's enemies had supposedly taken his TARDIS. He checked his jacket pocket again for the large ruby stone which was the key that would open the golden doors to the tomb. The Doctor's hand found nothing.

Staring down in dismay, the Doctor saw that somehow the pocket of his multi-coloured jacket had been ripped. Everything in it was gone. Lost forever on the jungle planet of Mon Lazio. He frowned upon the errant pocket, as if it was solely responsible for all his problems.

The Doctor felt a sudden, intense itch on the back of his neck. There came the buzz of a mosquito. A hand shot back, and the jungle clearing he'd paused in resounded with his slap.

"Missed!" The Doctor said in an exasperated tone. It sounded like a curse. The insect's high pitched whining continued to tease him around his left earlobe. He waved his hand at it in irritation. "_The_ most nettlesome noise in the universe." The Doctor gave a melancholy sigh. "Reminds me of Peri. Maybe I _should _have gone with her to visit her cousins in Soddy Daisy, Tennessee..." He shook his head, gave a shudder, "...no, on second thoughts, I'd rather listen to mosquitos...ya'll." He said to himself, empahsizing the last word with a strong southern accent.

Several minute's more walking brought him past the two trees that marked the spot. There was the temple. It rose above the jungle, a man made mountain. A great white marble pyramid, it was forty stories tall. However, the marble was moss-covered and crumbling with age. Barely visible through the tangle of jungle vines which seemed to be almost strangling the ancient structure in a death grip. They rendered it nearly invisible from the jungle floor, until one came right up to the wide marble steps at its base.

The doors of the temple were locked tight. Without the ruby key there was no getting in. "I really must remember to make myself another sonic screwdriver." The Doctor said to himself.

"'Ere now, what you want then?" Came a gruff voice from behind him.

Turning around in consternation, the Doctor found himself face to face with a portly, very officious looking man. He was dressed in a ragged, dirty red and gold uniform. The tall pointy green hat on his head was missing half its black brim. However, the long, sharp sword hanging from his shoulder strap looked shiny and new. As did the old-fashioned flint musket he carried at his side. Hanging from the belt holding up his trousers was a gold chain. At the end of the chain was a large ruby.

"Hello, maybe you can help me." The Doctor glibly lied with a friendly smile. "I seem to have been separated from my tour. They went inside to look at the carvings. I hear they're quite beautiful, by the way. Only, I can't seem to find my way in."

"They ain't nobody allowed in the temple." The guard said. "No one but the Grand Zorbann and his acolytes."

"Really? Are you quite sure?" The Doctor feigned surprise. He edged towards the door. "If you'd just allow me to look, I'd only be a moment..."

"They ain't nobody allowed in the temple, sir." The guard stubbornly shook his head, almost casually blocking the Doctor's way with his musket.

"But, the Grand Zorbann himself granted me...I mean us, access. Didn't you get the memo?"

"Don't know nothin' about no memo. All's I know is, they ain't nobody allowed in the temple. Not ever." The guard repeated.

"I thought you just said the Grand Zorbann was allowed in."

"Yeah, but ain't nobody _else_ allowed in temple." The guard insisted.

"What about the acolytes?" The Doctor asked.

"Them too. But no_ outsiders_ is allowed in temple."

"Well, they wouldn't be outsiders if you'd let them inside." The Doctor reasoned.

"No one is allowed in temple what ain't the Grand Zorbann or an acolyte."

"Well then, perhaps you could do me a favour and loan me your dictionary." The Doctor asked him.

"My what?" The Guard frowned in puzzlement, scratching his ear.

Perhaps he'd been bitten by a mozzy as well, thought the Doctor. He inwardly smiled at the throught of poetic justice.

"Can't say I got me one a' them, sir." The guard shrugged, after giving the matter some thought.

"No?" The Doctor said, feigning disappointment. "What a pity. Because looking up the word '_monotonous_' in the dictionary, would be much more intellectually stimulating for me than having a conversation with you."

"There's no call to be rude, sir. I's only doin' me job."

"And I'm sure you are the role model for every jobsworth in the universe." The Doctor muttered, turning away.

All at once, there came shouting and crashing from somewhere inside the jungle. It was the Doctor's pursuers, closing in on him.

"What's that?" The guard said, staring in the direction of the noise.

"Oh, them." The Doctor gestured towards the jungle. "That's just the French tour group. Vicious lot. Shot, hung and quartered the last guard who told them they couldn't enter a closed temple. I wouldn't say 'no' to them, if I were you."

"Oh yeah? We'll see about that, mate! Now if you don't mind, shove off. I've got work to do." The Guard said, shouldering his musket and stamping off importantly into the brush.

"Cheers!" The Doctor smiled and gave a cheery wave. His other hand clutched an identical ruby to the one he'd just lost. The key he'd quietly lifted off of the man's belt while they'd been talking.

Breathing a sigh of relief, the Doctor pushed back a big red lever on the console with a flourish. With a reassuring hum, it shut the TARDIS doors. Inside the gleaming white control room, the gentle light behind the glass roundels on the walls let off an inviting glow. The Doctor gratefully took in the familiar smells, sounds and feelings of his ship.

"Ah! Home sweet home, at last!" He said, patting the console affectionately.

Just then, a strident beeping came from the console. The Doctor gave a martyred sigh. "What now? Probably Peri asking me to come and get her. I'm beginning to wonder if she thinks my TARDIS is her own personal car hire service."

Bending down, he read the incoming message. His eyes widened with surprise.

"I need my help? What have I gone and gotten myself into this time?" He shrugged. "Peri can wait. Whatever is happening in my future, it sounds infinitely more interesting than being Soddy Daisy's only intergalactic taxi."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"I can't believe Amy's gone." Rory said into his hands. He was sitting on one of the steps by the TARDIS' control console. "I should have held on to her, Doctor. I could have saved her if I'd just held her hand or something."

"Then you'd probably have been lost as well, Rory." The Doctor said gently. He was sitting on the step beside him. The Doctor put his arm around Rory's shoulders. "I know it's not much consolation, but do you really think Amy would have wanted that?"

"We'll never know what my wife wanted, Doctor." Rory said bitterly, savagely brushing away the Doctor's arm and jumping up to pace the floor around the console. The glass resounded with his footsteps. "She's only gone because you had to go and show off. Leaving the doors open while you set the coordinates?" He stopped and whirled around to face the Doctor, his face set in a mask of rage and grief. "That was just plain irresponsible, and you know it!"

Saying nothing, the Doctor looked down at the hole pocked TARDIS floor. He knew Rory was at least partly right. He _had_ been showing off. Though he also knew that under normal circumstances, it would have been perfectly safe. The TARDIS was sentient.

The ship instinctively and faithfully did her best to protect those travelling inside her. On her own, without him having to do anything, she'd put up a force field whenever the doors were opened in space. Even if the Doctor was physically unable to do so, she should have also automatically shut the doors, the moment the ship sensed an incoming object.

Only, for the first time since he'd stolen her all those years ago, she hadn't. Something had gone terribly, awfully wrong.

"What happened, old girl?" He whispered to his ship. "Why didn't we see this coming?"

Without warning, a fog horn sounded. It came from the main control panel.

Rory jumped, staring oddly at the TARDIS console. The Doctor did likewise, leaping up and dashing to the controls. His face baffled, the Doctor quickly went over to the typewriter, which was busily typing away.

"What the hell was that?" Rory demanded to know.

"Incoming message!" The Doctor explained.

The typewriter finished typing, a bell pinged and it promptly spat out a sheet of paper, like one of those old newspaper teletype machines.

Ripping off the sheet, the Doctor said, "Distress call. Though I might say that the timing could be better." His eyes widened in surprise, the Doctor gasped. "I don't believe it! Alright, obviously I do. Otherwise I wouldn't even bother reading this. But, Rory, this is just...incredible!"

"What is?" Rory said shortly.

"It's a message from another TARDIS."

"I thought yours was the last one." Rory shook his head. His gazed suspiciously at the Doctor, thinking that perhaps this was some sort of ruse to take his mind off of the loss of his wife.

"It is! The message is from this TARDIS."

"OK, I get it. You've gone mad with grief." Rory said.

"No, no, no, Rory! It's from my TARDIS in the _past_." The Doctor explained excitedly, "One of my previous selves is sending a message to all of my other selves. This is just so far-out!"

"Is there a place they take Time Lords to be sectioned?" Rory asked nicely, as if he were a nurse talking to a behavioural health patient, "Cos' I think your Kiddies Meal may be missing some of its chips..."

"Oh you clever, sexy ol' TARDIS! You're gorgeous, you are!" The Doctor said, bending down to kiss the console.

"...and lost the little toy as well, apparently." Rory nodded, eying the Doctor dubiously.

However, the Doctor didn't hear him. He was too busy running over to the monitor, which resembled old fashioned television set hanging over the console. After a few seconds of frantic typing, the Doctor stopped and stood back. Looking up, he read the geometric Galifreyan writing which appeared on the screen. First, his jaw dropped in astonishment. Then, he broke into a wild, delirious grin.

Bounding over, the Doctor hugged Rory. He nearly stumbled, trying to take a step backward, not sure what the Doctor was on about.

"She's alive, Rory!" The Doctor shouted, releasing him. "I've no idea how she survived, but Amy didn't die in the vortex."

"She's what?" He was suddenly afraid he hadn't heard correctly. "Doctor, are you sure? You told me no human could survive the vortex."

"Here! Read it for yourself! She's still with us, Rory. Well, not actually '_with_' us, but with me, anyway. OK, not precisely with '_me_', either, but..."

"Shut up, Doctor. Let me read this." Rory said tersely. He looked down at the sheet of paper the Doctor had just handed him. It was written like an old-time telegram. Rory read it out loud:

'_Emergency protocol 378 activated, stop. Companion in trouble, stop. Came in contact with vortex energy, stop. Alive but in grave danger, stop. Need all hands to operate TARDIS to reverse process, stop. Come at once, stop. Coordinates to follow, stop.'_

Over the moon with joy at the news of Amy's rescue, Rory nevertheless was also sobered by the words, 'alive but in danger.'

"What are they—you, doing?" He asked.

"Whatever my other selves are doing, they obviously want it to '_stop_'." The Doctor quipped. Then he noticed the deep frown of disapproval on Rory's face. "Erm—sorry."

"We must've been side-swiped by past version of my TARDIS." Using his hands, the Doctor described the action, "Two of the same ships, travelling in the same time stream of the vortex, colliding at the same time..." his hands dropping to his side, the Doctor shook his head, "...very nasty. We're lucky the whole of time and space didn't go ka-blooey. That's a technical term, by the way. Didn't think that was even remotely possible, but obviously it is. Something must've been wrong with his, I mean my past self's collision avoidance system."

"Er—I'm sorry, Doctor. I mean, about what a said before. That it was all your fault. I know it was just an accident." Rory apologized humbly.

"No, you were right. I was showing off. Getting careless, not giving the controls my full attention. I'm the one who should be sorry, Rory." He answered contritely, looking away to check the controls. Trying to come to grips with his guilt.

"What about Amy? It says her life is in danger. Will she be alright, Doctor?" Rory said evenly, trying to calm his own churning emotions.

"If all eleven of us are there to operate the controls, quite probably she will be, Rory. Yes."

"What will that do?" He asked anxiously.

"It's rather hard to explain in layman's terms, so to speak." The Doctor replied, scratching his head wondering how to do just that to a human.

"I'd like to think I'm fairly clever, Doctor." Rory said, "Try me."

"Right. Essentially Rory, if seven or more Time Lords, preferably from the same exact genetic pool, operate the controls with which the TARDIS navigates and manipulates the vortex field, all at the same time, it can—theoretically, reverse the damage done to Amy. The more Time Lords available, the better the chances are of success. It's a very complicated and dangerous process. One wrong move, and the entire Space-Time Vortex would collapse, taking the whole universe down with it. That's why I—I mean he, activated protocol 378. It's the one emergency procedure no Time Lord can ignore."

"So what are we waiting for, Doctor?" Rory smiled for the first time. "Let's go save my wife."

As he spoke, the typewriter began typing once more. With another bright '_ping_!' is gave the coordinates of the other TARDIS.

"Your wish is my command, Rory Pond!" Giving a theatrical bow, the Doctor glanced at the coordinates and turned to the task of working the controls.

For once, Rory didn't protest that his last name was 'Williams.' He was just glad that the Doctor, whichever version of him that might be, had rescued his wife from the vortex.

No sooner though had the Doctor flipped the lever to set the TARDIS in motion, then all at once everything in the ship went dead. It made no sound. The central column, the lights on the control boards, and the main lighting all went dark at the same time.

In the sudden silence, Rory swore he could hear his own heartbeat as his anxiety levels mounted again. The red emergency lighting clicked on. In its crimson glow, the Doctor's face looked like a caricature of the devil as he glared angrily at the controls.

"Of all the times to throw a tantrum, you had to choose _now_?" He muttered crossly, kicking the console with his foot. "Owww!" He whinged, hopping around the console on his sore foot.

The Doctor toggled switches and pushed buttons, but nothing happened. He finally stopped and just stared at it helplessly, his hands falling to his sides.

Giving a big sigh, he tried a different tack. The Doctor bent down and talked softly to his ship. "Come on, old girl. This is Amy Pond we're talking about here. You like Amy, I know you do. What's this about then, eh? What's wrong?" He spoke almost tenderly, stroking the console like it was a faithful pet.

"What the hell was that?" Rory said, his voice echoing in the quiet room.

"I'm not sure, Rory." The Doctor said worriedly. "It's like she's fallen ill, or something."

"OK, now you're just being ridiculous." Rory shook his head. "How can a ship be sick?"

"This ship isn't all bits and bobs of machinery, you know. She's partly organic. She was grown, not manufactured. I don't know yet what's wrong with her, Rory. But it's almost like the poor girl's just had..." He stroked the console again, sadly, "...a heart attack."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The TARDIS had just left U.N.I.T. behind. It was out in space, circling a moon the Doctor claimed was sentient. He told his companion that it was listed in the star charts as Jardon III, but that it preferred to be called, 'Harold.'

Sarah Jane Smith smiled. She never knew when the Doctor was being serious. He would have that twinkle in his wide blue eyes and his teeth would flash that same delighted grin, whether he was meeting Charles Darwin or being threatened by a Zygon. Which was all part of the fun of travelling with him, she supposed.

Though his sometimes quirky and cryptic conversational style could become a teensy bit annoying, at times. As she was about to find out.

The ship was hovering over an asteroid belt circling the moon. The Doctor had put the ship at a safe distance from it. Or so he'd thought. Until one of the asteroids smashed into the TARDIS. Sarah was flung bodily against the octagonal TARDIS console. The red glow inside the churning central column dimmed, as it slowly ground to a halt.

Two hours later, the Doctor was still busy underneath the white central console. His long multi-coloured scarf, floppy brown hat and gray tweed coat were hanging on the coat rack near the TARDIS door. The Doctor was lying on his back. He was in his shirtsleeves, but still wore a burgundy four-in-hand tie, plaid vest, and brown corduroy trousers over a pair of sturdy boots. The Doctor had one of the lower panels off the console, and Sarah could hear the faint hum of his sonic screwdriver.

Sarah had gone to her room in the TARDIS to bathe and then relax by catching up on some reading. Say what you will about the Doctor, she thought, as she lay on her bed with an thick leather bound book propped up in front of her, he had a marvelous library. She was reading _Lives_

by Plutarch. Reading ancient biographies wasn't dull for her. Besides the fact that she was genuinely interested in history, Sarah knew that while travelling with the Doctor, she might actually some day meet such legendary figures as Theseus, Marc Antony, Cicero or Alexander.

While taking a time out, Sarah also changed into something more comfortable than the white frilly Victorian ball gown she'd been wearing on their last adventure in Colonial India. An alien ardvark disguised as a mad rajah had tried to take over the world. But the Doctor, with the help of the Brigadier and other memebers of the United Nations Intelligence Task Force, had stopped him.

Now she came back into the control room refreshed and ready for another adventure. The Victorian get up had been a little restrictive, so Sarah decided to put on a pair of bell bottom jeans and a colourful peasant blouse. She was about to ask the Doctor when he thought they might get underway again, when there came a polite knocking at the TARDIS door.

The Doctor's head suddenly shot out from under the console panel. "There's someone at the door!"

"Who's there?" Sarah puzzled.

"You forgot to say, 'knock-knock'." The Doctor smiled cheekily at her, getting to his feet. As he did so, the knocking came again, more insistent this time.

"Oh very funny, Doctor." Sarah sighed. "You could give Benny Hill a run for his money. What I meant was, how could anyone be knocking at the door? We're in space!"

"Let's see who it is, shall we?" The Doctor said, going over to the door switch on the console.

"It's not Harold, is it? Though how a moon could knock on a door is beyond me." Sarah pondered.

"Maybe it's an intergalactic encyclopedia salesman." The Doctor grinned at her. "My set is hopelessly out of date. It ends at the Xylodian's Forty-first Dynasty."

Putting his hand on a tall lever set into the control panel, the Doctor thrust it back. A wide, white panel with glass roundels swung open in the TARDIS wall. Into the console room shot a small white box. Without hesitation, it flew right into the Doctor's chest.

"Ooaff!" The Doctor breathed out in surprise. "Now that's what I call a speedy delivery."

As the Doctor held the box, its lid suddenly opened. The white box gave off a warm, golden glow from the inside, as a message began to play. Sarah stood behind him, unable to make out a single word. It all sounded like gibberish to her ears. Which was odd, because she'd recently discovered that the ship automatically translated nearly every language ever spoken, inside her head. So that Sarah could easily understand everything from Renaissance-era Italian to alien languages like Sontaran.

"Where'd that come from?" Sarah asked inquisitively.

"I give up. Where _did_ that come from, Sarah?" The Doctor quipped.

"Get serious, Doctor!" Sarah rolled her eyes. "What's this all about?"

"This _is_ serious, Sarah Jane." The Doctor said, his face suddenly quite somber. He pushed forward the lever that shut the TARDIS door. "Terribly, awfully, dangerously serious." He added in an ominous tone of voice.

"So, what is that thing?" Sarah queried, curiously staring at the box which the Doctor was holding in the palm of his left hand.

"Special delivery from Galifreyan Express." The Doctor informed her. "When your package absolutely, positively must get there before you mailed it."

"Oh." Sarah said. "What's the message?"

"Time Lord distress call."

"You mean it's a message from another Time Lord?" Sarah speculated.

"Well it isn't from Postman Pat, Sarah."

"Are we going to continue this party game, Doctor? Or are you going to tell me who it's from?" Sarah asked, shaking her head at the Doctor.

"Ah. Well, you see Sarah...that's the tricky bit." The Doctor hedged.

"You _do_ know who sent you the message?"

"Oh yes. Of course I do! Erm...I just don't know which one." He shrugged offhandedly.

"Still doing our party piece, I see. OK, I'll bite. Which. One. What?" She asked, crossing her arms as if to hold in her patience.

"Which one of me." The Doctor replied simply. As if that answered everything she wanted to know.

"Which one of...oh, wait a minute. I understand now! At least, I think I do. You mean one of your other selves has sent you a distress call?" She surmised.

"Congratulations, Sarah. You've gone on to the bonus round." The Doctor said, flashing her a pleased smile. "Yes, it's a message from one of my past...or future, selves." Setting the cube down on the console, he knelt down and swiftly sonicked the panel back in place. Then he got up and began fiddling with the controls.

"OK, don't leave me hanging after all this. What's it say, Doctor?"

"There's a companion in serious trouble, and the universe is in danger of collapsing, and I'm needed rather urgently."

"Correction, Doctor." Sarah told him firmly. "_We're _needed rather urgently." As the Doctor opened his mouth, presumably to protest her going with him, she added, "Assuming the companion is human, than who better to help than another human companion?"

"Sarah Jane, how could I possibly argue with that bit of logic?" He said, with half-hearted sarcasm.

"You can't. I'm going with you, and that's that." She answered firmly. "Now, where are we off to?"

"I'd fixed the damaged circuits so we can take off, and put in the coordinates that the cube gave me." He replied, watching the TARDIS' central column light up and begin to rise and fall. "We're already on our way."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

A bell bonged loudly. Sounding exactly like Big Ben, it echoed through the TARDIS halls. The noise was coming from the direction of the control room. Crossing his legs more comfortably, the Doctor let out a long sigh. Yet another urgent message was coming in from the High Council on Galifrey.

'_You have mail!_' Demanded a computer generated female voice. She'd been nagging him all morning. The voice always made the Doctor picture a stern, sour-faced dinner lady. Like the one who had made him stay after school at the academy when he was six years old, for eating his pudding before he'd finished his lunch.

Relaxing in an easy chair before the fire in the TARDIS library, the Doctor deliberately chose to ignore her. Well, almost. He flipped to the next the page of _Lost Horizons_ without realizing it, then resumed tapping his fingers restlessly on the arm of the chair. He knew that whatever his people wanted of him, it probably had something to do with the sudden communications blackout around the entire star system where the planet of Skaro resided.

Something had put the wind up their collective noses. He suspected—not without reason, that there was some dirty work they wanted him to do. Probably an unspeakable horror his people didn't want to dirty their hands with. And if it involved the Daleks and the Time Lords, that could only mean war.

The Doctor wasn't in the mood to become entangled with his worst enemy just yet. Nor was he in a hurry to go home. However, he knew in his hearts of hearts that sooner or later he would have to answer the summons. But, not quite yet.

There were times when he wished Grace had stayed on to travel with him. Probably not a good idea though, if the Daleks were on the warpath. The Doctor sighed again. The old grandfather style library clock ticked loudly from its place in the far corner of the room, its pendulum swinging in an ages old rhythm marking the passage of time that the Doctor could feel in his bones. He was in his eighth generation, now.

There was a time when he believed he'd be thousands of years old before that happened. The Doctor smiled sadly. He'd been a dreamer as a young man. Something frowned upon by his staid, ceremonious peers. However, the Doctor never imagined he'd do half the things he'd done since that day he fled Galifrey. An old man in appearance, having yet to regenerate back then, the Doctor had stolen an old Type Forty time ship from a used TARDIS lot. Showing off, he then proceeded to take his granddaughter Susan on a joyride a ride through time and space...and never stopped.

Though the companions he took along with him came and went, he had stayed on. Always travelling, searching for...he never could quite put his finger on exactly what it was he was actually looking for. Still, it was far better than settling down to the tedious, bureaucratic existence of a member of the Prydonian chapter of Time Lords. By now, the TARDIS had come to feel more like his home than Galifrey did.

At present, the Doctor had the TARDIS all to himself. He had temporarily parked in the middle of the Andromeda Nebula star cluster. That last regeneration had taken something out of him. Getting shot was never a pleasant experience. One of the many reasons he hated guns. He never would fully understand the fascination they held for some. Why there were those who could only feel powerful if they held something in their hands, whose only purpose was to take away precious life.

His right hand absently reached over and picked up a cracked mug from the table beside him. It bore the legend: '_Keep Calm and Carry On'._ The Doctor took a sip, staring at the page before his nose, half-listening to a jazz track by Ethiopian pianist, Samuel Urga.

Without warning, a new sound came from the control room. Not the sonorous bongs of the Galifreyan email alert, though. This was an insistent hooting.

'_Wooo-weeee-yoo_! _Weeeee-yoo_! _Weeee-yoo_!' Shrilled throughout the TARDIS. '_Urgent message from me!_" Came a man's voice over the tannoy. The Doctor's voice, a different Doctor, from another time and place. '_Emergency Protocol 378 has been activated_. _Report immediately to incoming coordinates. This is a code one emergency! Repeat, this is a code one! Time out, sixteen hundred hours._'

Raising an eyebrow, the Doctor slowly set down down his cup. Closing the book he rose from his chair, and placed it back on the shelf. After he made the holo-fireplace vanish, he stood there straightening the jacket of his Wyatt Earp fancy dress costume. Fussed a bit with the tie. And then the Doctor pelted out the library door. A smile which was both relieved and eager suddenly crossed his face, as he ran towards the control room.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Rose! Get in here!" Captain Jack shouted out from the console room. "We need you!"

The TARDIS was parked in a quiet corner of a small play park somewhere in Swansea. Jack stood hunched over the console, glaring dubiously at the monitor screen. It showed half a dozen small children surrounding the Doctor's ship.

One particularly persistently little boy dressed in a footballer's kit, kept tugging on the handle of the locked TARDIS door. When that didn't work, he began banging on the door with what appeared to be a toy ray gun. Then several of the other kids joined in with their fists. Jack frowned deeply. The noise was seriously beginning to give him a headache. He seldom spent much time around kids, so Jack rarely felt comfortable dealing with them. But Rose was good with children. She could get them to clear off in no time flat.

"Rose!" An impatient Jack called out again.

"She's not here." Came the Doctor's voice.

Emerging from a nearby doorway, the Doctor came bounding into the control room. He'd changed jumpers again, Jack noted. This one, burgundy. It sort of suited the Doctor, Jack thought. Slipping his long leather jacket back on, the Doctor strolled over to the console and began checking it over.

"What! Where she'd go? Tell her to get back here. Those kids out there are driving me nuts!" Jack whinged.

"Since we're stuck here while I'm busy recalibrating the TARDIS' dendromorphic chronometer, I told her to take a day off. Go do something domestic. Rose has gone to some beauty salon to have her hair and nails done. Told me she's meeting Mickey at the train later. I suppose she'll have him take her out for some chips and a bit of shopping. You know Rose. She'll be back before you know it. When she gets bored with all that mundane human faff." He shrugged.

"Chips and shopping my hot, sexy bum! I can tell you what she'll be doing." Jack spluttered. He cast a nasty glare at the TARDIS doors as the banging grew louder. Incensed about being left out of Rose's plans as much as he was by the noise, he rounded angrily at the Doctor, "She and Mickey are probably holed up all nice and cozy in some little backstreet hotel right now. You picked a fine time to let her go off on a dirty weekend, Doctor. How much you wanna' bet we won't see her again until Monday?"

"Look." The Doctor said evenly. "I have a strict policy towards you humans and your little...domestic erm—_things_. Don't ask. Don't tell. At least while you're in my TARDIS" He said, ducking his head to avoid showing his discomfort towards the subject. "Rose can do whatever it is...you humans do, just as long as she doesn't do it in front of me, thank you very much."

"You know I always suspected, deep down, that you were an uptight old prude. And I think I just got my answer." Jack said, raising his eyebrows in sudden amusement. "In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if I was standing in front of the universe's oldest virgin. Maybe you should think about becoming a monk, Doctor."

"For your information Captain Jack Harkness, I'm not a...a..._you know what_. And I don't think the universe is ready for two meddling Time Lord monks, cheers. I've no desire whatsoever to shave my head, don some ecclesiastical bath robe, and chant rap psalms." The Doctor told him crossly.

Suddenly, there came a huge bang from the door, that sent vibrations throughout the TARDIS.

"What the _hell_ are those kids using out there?" Jack puzzled, once again turning an angry stare at the doors. "A medieval battering ram?"

Look!" The Doctor blustered, sticking his head under the console and getting out his sonic screwdriver, "Forget the aliens at the front door, Jack! I'm not interested in buying any more subscriptions from them. I already get _The Holovid Times, Intergalactic_ _Football News_, _Venusian Vogue, _and _Horse and Hound_." An unsympathetic Doctor replied.

" Aliens!" Jack peered again at the group of children huddled in front of the TARDIS doors. "What are you talking about, Doctor? They're just kids."

"No, they just look like children." The Doctor explained as he lay on his back and began working on the TARDIS. "They're Zlotzation's. Otherwise known as Zlots'. Their bodies stop growing before they reach the age of ten, so they spend their entire lives looking like children. Those out there are probably well into middle age. This lot are employed as fund raisers by Mr. Smooter's Happy Travelling University and Steak House on Kegger Prime. Best sales staff in the ten galaxies. They never take no for answer."

"Oh yeah? Just give me one little ol' proton pistol. I'll bet they'll take a no from me, real fast." Jack said, stomping aggressively towards the door.

"No they wouldn't, Jack. Because they can't. The word '_no'_ is completely absent from the language of the Zlots." The Doctor said over the gentle hum of his sonic as he worked. "They really don't understand what it means. Trust me on this. I had to take a twenty year gift subscription to_ Ballet_ _World_ last year, just to get them out of my TARDIS. Told them to send it to Commander Starl of the Seventh Sontaran Battle Fleet. It was his fifth birthday. It was either that or a pony. Sontarans get seriously cranky when you forget their birthdays. Actually, scratch that. They're always cranky...what the—?"

Another heavy blow had just rocked the TARDIS door. This time, it was so hard that it shook the sonic screwdriver right out of the Doctor's hand.

"Right! That tears it!" The Doctor shouted, his head popping up from beneath the console. "Looks like I'm gonna' have to get tough with them."

With a face like thunder the Doctor got up off the floor and, sucking in his breath, walked sternly towards the TARDIS door. He stopped abruptly just before he got there. For the briefest of moments he stared uncertainly at the door.

Taking a deep breath the Doctor hesitated. He suddenly turned to Jack. Smiling and spreading his hands deprecatingly he said, "Tell you what? How'd you like a year's subscription to _Classic Spacerods_? My treat! What d'ya say?"

Jack had nothing to say. Throwing the Doctor a dirty look over his shoulder, he flung open the TARDIS door. Immediately one of the Zlots dashed inside. Jack quickly shut the door in the face of the other four. One of them was a ginger haired nine year old boy, whom in reality was a forty-one year old man with two wives and terraced house mortgaged to the hilt. He ran up to the Doctor and thrust a sheet of paper in his hand.

"Mr. Notnik with a personal message for the Doctor!" The boy in the three piece neon green double breasted suit gave a brief formal bow. Then stood upright and added with a happy smile, "And a special offer on a two-year subscription to _Science Fiction Digest. _Only fifty credits! That means each issue is thirty percent off the single cover price you'd pay at your local news agent..."

Taking the message, the Doctor quickly became absorbed in its contents. He absently nodded, sighing, "Fine, whatever. Put in on my tab. You know where to send the bill. Now get out of my ship!"

"Notnik thanks you once again, most noble and compassionate Time Lord, for your continued custom!" Bowing repeatedly, the Zlot beamed a smile at the Doctor. He backed away and then reverently opening the TARDIS door, he left. Once outside, Notnik high-fived the waiting group of salesmen. "What'd I tell you? There's a sucker hatched every minute." He chortled.

"What's in the message? Is it from Rose?" Jack asked after the Zlot had gone.

"It's from me." The Doctor said simply.

Handing the note to Jack the Doctor quickly set to, getting the TARDIS ready for flight. Jack read the note and smiled. This sounded like his kind of adventure. Suddenly he looked up, startled. Jack realized that the Doctor was taking off right that very instant.

"Wait a minute." Alarmed, Jack pulled at the Doctor's arm. "What about Rose? You can't just leave without her."

"Erm—I think you're forgetting something very important, Jack." The Doctor said, turning back to working the controls.

Slowly, the Time Rotor inside the central column began to lift. The wheezing grind of TARDIS' engines began to power up in pitch. Jack cast a perplexed look at the Doctor. In turn, the Doctor raised his eyebrows, then threw a meaningful glance in the direction of the central console. The time rotor was now gradually picking up speed, bobbing up and down like a horse on a carousel pole.

"Oh. Time machine. Right." Jack nodded as his mental penny dropped.

"I can get there and take care of our little emergency. Then be back here before Rose ever notices we've been gone." The Doctor smiled.

"Aren't you even gonna' leave her a note or something?" Jack asked.

"You were the one who said she wouldn't be back until Monday." The Doctor shrugged. "And she knows I'd never just abandon her. At least, she should do. She's a clever girl, our Rose. Tell you what. I'll pause the flight long enough for you to nip out and find her."

"And leave me behind? No way!" Jack objected. "All your selves in one place at the same time? I gotta' see this! One thing, though. Do all your regenerations have nice bums?" The Doctor frowned and began to open his mouth. Jack held up a hand. "Never mind. Why spoil the surprise. But I'll tell you what."

"Hmm—?" The Doctor murmured, not really paying attention while he was busy punching in the coordinates he was given.

"Rose is so going to be seriously ticked off at you. I'll bet she won't speak to you for at least a week."

"This is so un-fair of you, Mickey!" Rose yelled. She was hurrying off back to the TARDIS, with her disgruntled boyfriend trailing along behind her. The curtain of misty rain sweeping the streets of Swansea didn't help her mood any. "I'm not using you! I'm the one who called. Remember? Because I missed you."

"Yeah. You called me because you wanted to borrow twenty quid to buy your mum a birthday present." Mickey grumbled.

"That's not true!" Rose protested, slowing down somewhat. She knew in her heart that he was at least partly right. It made her soften her tone a little. She turned and glanced at Mickey. "I really did want to see you."

"See me? For how long? A couple of hours? A few days?" He said resentfully, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Is that all I am to you, Rose? 'Cos if it is, I might as well start charging you by the hour." Mickey gave an indignant sniff. "Sometimes I don't know why you even bother calling me at all. I must seem like pretty tame stuff compared to the Doctor."

"Now you're just being childish!" Rose responded, her anger once again coming to the fore. "Feeling sorry for yourself. I don't know why I..." She shrugged, stopping herself from going too far. "Forget it."

"Why you what? Why you put up with me? Why you still want me around, when you've got the whole of time and space at your disposal?" Mickey fired back. "Since we're asking questions, I might ask myself why I allow you to walk all over me all the time."

"Can we just forget it? I'm going back to the TARDIS. I'll call you later when you've calmed down." Rose said, marching straight ahead through the gate of the play park.

Mickey began to follow her. He paused, shaking his head ruefully. Why should he allow Rose to manipulate him all the time? Mickey decided that he should go home and just get on with his life. Forget Rose. Find someone else. He was about to turn away when he heard Rose give a startled cry. Without hesitation, Mickey tore off down the cinder path to the far end of the park where Rose had gone. He found her circling a patch of crushed grass that was in the shape of a square. She was crying.

"He wouldn't do that! He wouldn't just leave without saying goodbye!" She was saying to herself. Tears began to form in her eyes. "How could he do this to me? Just leave without a note, or a word, or anything?"

A few minutes later found her sitting on a park bench with Mickey. He tenderly held a sobbing, heartbroken Rose in his arms, kissing the top of her head, comforting her.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Rory wasn't moving. That's because he'd accidentally fallen into one of the holes in the bottom of the control room floor. Except for the single light from the Doctor's torch, the TARDIS was pitch black. Nothing was working. The ship seemed to almost have died. Rory tried to be the voice of reason, as the Doctor seemed to be freaking out slightly. Not that it was surprising. Rory suspected losing the TARDIS to the Doctor, was probably like how he felt losing Amy.

Mentally checking himself over Rory concluded that, other than having a slightly bruised bottom, he seemed to be fine. However, the Doctor warned him that if he moved even a fraction, he might short out the omega stabilizer. Which seemed would be a very bad thing, as the Doctor then mentioned that he hoped Rory's life insurance policy was up to date.

Trying to calm down after the loss of his ship, the Doctor concentrated on helping Rory. He was presently crouched down over the hole. Shining the torch on some wiring protruding from the side, that Rory had torn loose in his fall. He gingerly touched one of the wires. Which wasn't easy, as there was only room enough between Rory and the edge of the hole for two of the Doctor's fingers. Added to this difficulty was the further complication that if one of those wires touched Rory, it would instantly kill him.

"OK, Rory. Let's get you sorted. First things first." The Doctor told him. "One thing at a time. That's the way things have to work at the moment. Not that I want to make a habit of it, mind you. It's much more fun trying to do ten different things at once. Multi-tasking was originated by the Time Lords, you know. Well, maybe not. But it should have been..."

"Providing that I don't die Doctor, what happens next? How can we get Amy back if the TARDIS isn't working?" Rory asked.

"Relax, Rory! One thing at a time. Life support is next on the list. Then, I can try to get at least some of the power back online. And then, Rory my lad, perhaps I begin to work out how to help Amy. So to recap," the Doctor said, unnecessarily Rory thought, "Fix the omega stabilizer, save your life, save both our lives by turning the life support back on, re-boot the TARDIS, find Amy. I hope you were paying attention, Rory. I'd hate to repeat myself. Really boring, having to do that."

"Fixing the omega stabilizer is more important than saving my life?" Rory asked.

"Oh, alright. You first. It's always about you, isn't it?" The Doctor said. "Rory, Rory, Rory..."

No sooner had the Doctor spoken, then sparks flew up from the wire in his fingers. Rory gasped as the Doctor was flung onto his back. The torch went out.

In the sudden claustrophobic darkness Rory cried out, "Doctor! Are you alright!"

But there was no answer. He couldn't even hear the Doctor breathing.

Amy was abruptly sleepy. She couldn't seem to keep her eyes open. The cheerful little Doctor was bent over her with a reassuring smile. Amy rather liked that this Doctor had chosen to be Scottish. Why couldn't _her_ Doctor do that? This wasn't the Doctor she knew and...well, he wasn't _him_, was he? Still, she was in a TARDIS, if not _her _TARDIS. And somehow, this version of the Doctor made her feel as if everything would be alright. He was very good at doing that.

The Doctor—the _seventh_ Doctor, Amy corrected herself, gently helped her to stand.

"I brought you a beach chair from the cupboard. Thought it might be better than the floor." He told her kindly. "You need to stay awake, Amy. You're experiencing a form of time shock. If you fall asleep, I might not be able to wake you again. And it may take some time for all my other selves to get here. So I've devised some things to help you keep alert." He said as Amy settled down comfortably in the chair.

Which turned out not to be all that comfortable. Lying on the hard floor had felt better, she thought.

"Ah, yes." He said with a twinkle in his eyes, noting her sudden discomfort, "I can't think of anything more ill-fitting than that old beach chair. That's phase one."

"What's phase two?" Amy asked, suddenly wary. "And you'd better not say slapping my face with a cold, slimy dead fish."

"Oh." The Doctor's face fell. "Alright. We'll skip that one, then. His face brightened. "Do you like polka music?"

"Not as such, no." Amy shook her head.

"Good!" The Doctor beamed. "I haven't played the accordion lately. I could use the practice."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

A tall, white haired dignified looking gentleman quickly rounded the corner of the military base's H.Q.. He was dressed in Victorian style garments consisting of a frilly white shirt, and a burgundy and tan plaid suit and trousers with matching cape. Behind him strode a dark haired, mustached man in a military uniform. The military type was scowling fiercely at the back of other man.

"I'm afraid you don't understand, Doctor." The military man shouted. "I cannot allow you to just come and go from this base willy-nilly, any time some whim catches your fancy."

The Doctor stopped and rounded on the soldier so abruptly, that the other man almost collided with him. He'd had so backpedal slightly, to keep from crashing into the Doctor's chest.

"My dear brigadier," The Doctor said somewhat crossly to the head of U.N.I.T. Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, "may I remind you that I am not officially a member of Her Majesty's armed forces? I am merely your _civilian_ scientific advisor. And since I have nothing to advise you on at the moment, I'm going to my TARDIS."

With that, the Doctor turned and once again strode down the corridor leading to the laboratory where he kept his ship.

"And another thing, Brigadier. Time Lords don't go about willy-nilly. Though I admit that we may do a bit of shilly-shallying sometimes." The Doctor remarked dryly as he continued walking. "As for myself, I always have a purpose to my comings and goings."

"Was that what you called your last joy-ride, Doctor?" The brigadier deliberately needled him, as he followed the Doctor through the lab doors.

The Doctor turned to face the Brigadier, opening his mouth to protest. Then, he stopped. Giving a rueful grin, he nodded.

"Yes, I suppose that little adventure wasn't exactly a planned excursion. I've no idea why the TARDIS suddenly decided to deviate from her flight path. Still, it's not everyday one has the chance to watch shooting stars from a mountaintop in Colorado with John Denver. He was trying to write some song about smoking marijuana and hugging trees. I convinced him that he'd be better off singing about getting high naturally on the Rocky Mountains. Lovely chap, John. We ended up doing a duet around the campfire. I played the Martian dulcimer..."

"That's all very well, Doctor." The brigadier interrupted impatiently. And while you're off singing around the campfire, we had an unusual earthquake in south Wales. Because you weren't here to investigate for us, I had to hand it off to another government agency called Tor—"

"Brigadier, I'm a Time Lord, not a geologist. Although," The Doctor scratched his head. "it's true that I am your scientific advisor. But an earthquake is normally a natural phenomena. Was any alien activity recorded with this incident?"

"Not that I'm aware of Doctor, no. However, that other agency has refused to cooperate with us. This institute or whatever it is, isn't known for its information sharing. They're even more secret than our own organization."

"Well there, you see?" The Doctor said reassuringly, fetching out his slightly triangular shaped key with the odd markings on it, and unlocking the TARDIS door. "If it had been anything serious, I'm quite sure they would have consulted you, brigadier."

"That's not the point, Doctor!" The brigadier shouted, as the TARDIS door was shut in his face. "Where are you going now? We need you here!"

"I can assure you sir, that I'm not going anywhere for the time being." came the Doctor's muffled voice from inside his ship, "I'm merely checking the power couplings on the positronic micron dynamo...oh, hello! An incoming message. Now where in Rassillon did that come from?"

No more was heard from the Doctor for several minutes. Suddenly, the brigadier felt like a fool. He was simply standing there staring at a big blue police box. Just as he was about to turn away and leave the lab, a sudden wind picked up from out of nowhere. The brigadier heard the sound of the ship's engines beginning to grind away.

"Doctor! I forbid you to leave. Come back here!" He shouted at the now-fading TARDIS.

Over the sound of the departure, the brigadier could have sworn he heard the Doctor say, "Sorry, brigadier. I have to help myself!"

On the same planet but , another Doctor was having an entirely different problem with the military.

The Doctor ducked, as he was showered with a geyser of dirt. "Jamie! Zoe! Keep down, both of you!" The little man in the dark suit shouted. He had a mop of black hair, not too unlike that of the Beatles, and a wizened, merry face. A face which at the moment was creased with worry.

His TARDIS had landed smack in the middle of some 19th century battlefield. Heaven only knew which one. It could be anywhere in Europe, Africa, India or North America. Before he could stop him, the Doctor's companion, Jamie McCrimmon had suddenly gotten overly excited. He'd bolted out of the TARDIS door, shouting some battle cry of his Scottish clan. Apparently he thought he'd ended up back at the battlefield of Culloden, where the Doctor had first taken him aboard.

His other companion, Zoe, a girl from the far future, had rushed out to stop Jamie. Now they were both caught in the middle of what appeared to be a major battle. There were times like this, the Doctor thought while mopping his sweating brow with a colourful red handkerchief, that he was glad he'd regenerated from an old man into a younger one. These two companions of his were certainly giving him quite a workout.

Looking out from his position on a hilltop, he suddenly spied a familiar figure in a kilt on the other side of the valley below. Alongside him was a girl in a silvery short dress. Jamie and Zoe! Somehow, they'd made their way across the cannonball and bullet riddled plain to the other side. The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief knowing they were still alive.

Without warning, there came a sudden lull in the battle. All cannon and gunfire ceased. The Doctor breathed a collective sigh of relief. Perhaps it was a ceasefire. But somehow, it didn't feel like one. The sudden hush over the battle suddenly felt like that eerie calm one got before a violent thunderstorm broke loose in the heavens.

Then, the Doctor spied movement from the far left of his vision. A large detachment of horsemen were moving down the middle of the valley. Nearly seven hundred horses and men trotted swiftly forward in perfect formation towards a large battery of heavy guns at the other end of the valley. The men in red trousers and blue and gold braided jackets sat their horses proudly and calmly, their gold-trimmed bearskin hats topped with red horse hair plumes bobbing up and down in perfect unison, as if they were on a parade ground.

The Doctor groaned. He now knew exactly where he was. The Battle of Sebastopol. He was witnessing the famous charge of the Light Brigade.

There was no way he could reach his companions on foot now. He'd have to use the TARDIS, and hope that he could get it to land close to their location. Which was quite difficult at the best of times. But, the Doctor knew he had to try.

Scrambling inside his ship, he fussed over the controls, his face screwed up with stress and concern. Which became even more concerned, when his ship decided to put herself into flight, all on her own.

"Oh, goodness me!" The Doctor said incredulously, staring worriedly at the controls. "This is no time to go sightseeing. Where are you going? You can't do that! We have to save Jamie and Zoe!"

But the TARDIS wasn't listening. She'd just received a distress call, and was determined to answer it. For the time being, Jamie and Zoe were on their own.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

A young Frisian cow was staring at her. Defiantly placing her hands on her hips, Tegan stared back at it with the same cross expression she'd just given the Doctor. They'd landed in the middle of a pasture somewhere. She'd barely gone out the TARDIS door when she'd stepped in a cow pat. And Tegan wasn't the least bit amused when the Doctor had merely shrugged and remarked that at least it wasn't a fresh one.

Rubbing the sleeves of her cream coloured jacket, Tegan could feel goose pimples forming on her legs from the knees down. A brisk wind was whipping the hem of her dress. There was a sharp bite to it, with an almost tangible tang of frost in the air. The sun was setting over the mountains surrounding the field. It's deep scarlet glow was dancing in and out of some low dark clouds. A sudden parting of those clouds sent a shaft of crimson sunlight down upon the eastern hills, turning their mass of gray, leafless trees into a million candle flames.

However, Tegan was far too piqued with the Doctor to appreciate the beauty and serenity of her surroundings.

"What are you staring at?" She said to the little heifer. The sleek black and white animal raised her head and gave a long '_mawwwww_!' "Maybe you _are_ an alien." Tegan shrugged, eying the cow dubiously. "After travelling with the Doctor, who can tell? For all I know, that was your way of saying, 'welcome to the planet Bovine'."

Coming up to the fence, the Doctor's light hair was tossled by the breeze, as reached over to scratch the cow behind her ear. He didn't notice that he'd just torn a small hole in the bottom edge of his long beige Edwardian cricketer's jacket from the rusty barbed wire."Bovinia is light years away, Tegan." He smiled. "Besides, the Bovinians are fluorescent orange. Keeps them from being mistaken for deer by thick-headed hunters. I'm afraid this is simply your ordinary earth-bound milk cow."

The little cow tried to reach up and take a bite out of the stalk of celery the Doctor had pinned to the left lapel of his jacket. Bending down, the Doctor whispered something into the animal's ear. Tegan watched as the heifer slowly turned and ambled away to join some other cattle huddled in the middle of the field eating from a pile of hay.

"Where are we then? Glastonbury in nineteen thirty?" She asked plaintively.

"Not exactly, no." The Doctor shook his head. "I did promise to take you to an important rock festival, but..."

"Wait. Don't tell me." Tegan put up her hand and shook her head. "I know. The TARDIS got it wrong again."

The Doctor's positive smile wavered somewhat at this slight to his beloved ship.

"Er—yes. Technically it is the site of a rock festival. Not quite Glastonbury, though. Sorry."

"I see. So where are we, then?" Tegan asked evenly, hoping this wasn't going to turn into a game of twenty questions.

"Woodstock, New York..."

"Oh, but that's brilliant!" Tegan beamed, thrilled to her toes at witnessing one of the most important rock festivals in history. "Watching Jimmy Hendrix playing the American national anthem on his guitar. How amazing would that be?"

"...In nineteen fifty-nine." The Doctor finished, effectively putting a lid on Tegan's enthusiasm.

"Doctor! You've got to be joking!" Tegan said angrily, rounding on the him. "You promised! One nice trip in the TARDIS. That's what you said. No aliens. No running. No explosions. Anywhere I want to go. She threw up her hands. "As if!" Tegan accused him with a negative shake of her head, "I should have known! You can't even get me back to my job at Heathrow. What made me think you'd be able to take me to a rock concert?"

Not wanting to be besieged by Tegan's whinging, the Doctor hurried back to the TARDIS saying, "Hang on just a tick, Tegan. I'll see if I can't reconfigure the coordinates to take us up a decade or so. Won't be but a moment..."

No sooner had the Doctor shut the TARDIS door, when there was a loud bang from behind her. Giving a startled cry, Tegan instinctively ducked. The cattle in the field ran off as a herd, bawling in protest over the noise. Something hit the door hard, rocking the Doctor's ship. Whatever it was gave off a tiny puff of smoke that slowly dissipated in a thin trail in the air, revealing a blackened smudge in the middle of the door.

"Missed!" Came a deep, growly male voice. "If I can't get the Doctor, then I'll have to settle for his female."

Slowly getting up, Tegan looked behind her. Standing before her was what looked like an enormous three meter tall German shepherd. It was standing there on two legs on the other side of the barbed wire fence, wearing a military flak jacket and trousers.

The alien's furry brown-black ears were sticking out of the holes at the top of a black helmet. Instead of paws though, it had human-like hands with opposable thumbs. Though furry, its face was more humanoid as well, with a human mouth and an only vaguely dog-like nose. The newcomer's apprentice may have been almost comical, but for the fact that it had the point of a very lethal looking blast gun centred on Tegan's chest.

"Call him out here, girl." The dog-man snarled. "I know the Time Lord won't be able to resist saving one of his friends."

"Who are you?" Tegan asked more boldly then she actually felt. "Where the hell did you come from? And what's the Doctor ever done to you?"

"Silence!" The man-dog barked. "I am Rogerious from Altar Prime. The most feared bounty hunter in the ten known galaxies. You will obey me or you will die. If you wish to live human, call the Doctor out here. Now!"

"Relax erm—Roger." Tegan said, raising her hands in the air and trying to stall for time. "I'll do as you say. But only if you tell me why you want to kill the Doctor."

"When the Rutan's give someone like me a contract, I have no choice but to fulfill it. Not if I don't want to die very slowly and painfully. And of course the pay for bringing down a Time Lord will allow me to retire in style. I heard somewhere that they can regenerate their bodies up to thirteen times. The power pack on my gun is unlimited. A dozen or so shots won't even warm the barrel. Now bring the Doctor out here!" The dog-man snarled.

"No!" Tegan began to protest.

Without warning, the TARDIS began to de-materialize. A sudden gust of wind kicked up a swirl of brown leaves, and the noise of its departure caused the little knot of cattle to bolt again. Tegan watched with a mixture of fear and relief, as she watched the ship slowly dissolve into nothingness.

When the sound of the ship had completely died away, Tegan and the dog man she called 'Roger' staring after it.

A deep growl rose from 'Roger's' throat. "Coward!" He turned his gun on Tegan. "But at least I have a hostage. Come, female! We will go back to my ship and follow him."

"The name's Tegan. And I'm not going anywhere with you." She said defiantly. "Not if you're going to use me to kill the Doctor."

"Then you will be of no further use to me, human called Tegan. I shall kill you now." The man-dog flipped a switch on his gun. It gave off a menacing whine as it powered up.

"Ah, OK. Maybe you should take me to this ship of yours..." Tegan hastily agreed.

In the meantime, the Doctor was frowning deeply at the console of his TARDIS, watching the red time rotor pump up and down rhymically inside its round perspex cylinder.

"Tegan's not going to be pleased. In fact, I'll probably never hear the end of it. Well, I certainly didn't tell you to take off. At least," He said, pausing to search his recent memory, "I don't think I did." Realizing he hadn't, the Doctor continued trying to bring his ship back under his control, muttering, "I just don't understand this. You aren't supposed to be able to do that. What's going on? Is it the High Council interfering again?"

That's when he looked up at the monitor screen mounted on the wall of the control room, and saw what was happening to Tegan.

"Oh no!" The Doctor exclaimed, his face suddenly alarmed. "We've got to go back!" He said to his ship, frantically working the controls.

Unfortunately for the Doctor—and Tegan, the TARDIS wasn't listening. She'd just received an Emergency Protocol 378 message. Her programming told her this was a top priority and she was duty bound to answer the summons.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

With the total darkness came utter, complete silence. Rory shivered involuntarily, drawing his denim jacket closer about him. He couldn't hear the Doctor breathing. And he still had no idea if he was in mortal danger from that loose wire. Taking a chance that he wasn't, Rory leaned down and reached out with his hands to feel for the Doctor's body.

"Doctor?" He asked tentatively. There was no answer. "Mind you," he said to himself, "there have been times when I wished you would shut the hell up. However, right now isn't one of them."

"Rory! How positively rude!" Came the Doctor's voice so suddenly and so close to his ear, that it caused Rory to yelp, giving him a momentary start of fright.

"Er—sorry, Doctor." Rory quickly apologized, with a sigh of relief. "Are...you OK?"

"I'm not sure. It is rather dark in here, isn't it?" The Doctor observed unnecessarily, "Perhaps I shouldn't have bought that dodgy top up card from that market stall on Chan Chen."

"Wait just a sec." Rory told him. "I have a torch."

"Is that a torch in your pocket Rory, or are you just happy to..."

"Don't say it, Doctor. _Please_." Rory pleaded, digging a small torch from out of the pocket of his jeans.

Slide the switch on the torch to the 'on' position, Rory shone it around the TARDIS control room. The entire ship seemed to be dead.

"Not working, is it?" The Doctor sniffed. "Flat battery. Didn't bother to check it first, I gather. I bet Amy's the one who repairs all the fuses in your house."

"No, Doctor." Rory shook his head patiently. "The torch is on. See?" He said, shining the light briefly on the Doctor's face. Only, the Doctor didn't react at all. Didn't even blink.

Keeping the torch trained close to the Doctor, Rory waved his hand in front of the Doctor's eyes. There was no reaction.

"Erm—I hate to be the one to tell you this Doctor, but..." Rory began.

"I'm blind. Yes. I did sort of manage to suss that out on my own, Rory." The Doctor replied. "Never mind, though. At least I don't have to worry about power cuts...except for when the football's on. Then I'd have to go back in time, find a pub and catch the original broadcast. You know how cranky the TARDIS can get about short trips. Last time I did that, I ended up in some cowboy bar in Texas. Nearly got into a bar fight because they thought I was gay. Seems I forgot to put trousers on under my chaps. On the bright side though, I did show them how to ride a mechanical bull with a certain amount of panache..."

"When that wire shorted out, it must've damaged your eyes somehow." Rory interjected, attempting to steer the topic back on course. "Where's the med kit?"

Suddenly, there was a bright green glow around the Doctor's face. A gentle hum told Rory that the Doctor had gotten his sonic screwdriver out. He appeared to be waving it around his eyes. The light cut out again as the Doctor turned it off and held the device towards Rory.

"Never mind about that." He said impatiently. "What's the reading on my sonic?"

"Not sure." Rory muttered, squinting at the device in the light of his torch. "Can't see that well. Hands are shaking a bit. It's getting pretty chilly in here, in case you haven't noticed."

"Concentrate then, Rory!" The Doctor commanded. "We haven't much time. I've got to get the oxygen back online. If we don't freeze to death or get sucked into some black hole first, that is."

"Of course! How stupid of me." Rory answered sarcastically, "I'd completely forgotten that we could both die at any moment. Cheers for the heads up there, Doctor. Right. Give me a sec." Holding the torch in his left hand, Rory held the sonic up close to his face and squinted at it. "OK. The reading appears to be 101960.27B. What's that mean?"

"Good." The Doctor said, his voice sounding relieved. "Means that the damage to my retinas is probably only temporary."

"Probably? What do we do in the meantime, Doctor? You can't expect me to sit here in the dark twiddling my thumbs while Amy's out there." Rory complained.

"I love a good thumb twiddle too, now and then. But now's not the time. We have to rescue Amy. You need to get your priorities straight, Rory." The Doctor chided him.

"No, I meant...oh what's the use? Never mind. What are we going to do then, Doctor?" Rory sighed.

"You'll have to be my eyes for a while, Rory. I'll have to tell you how to repair this ship." The Doctor paused. Said to himself, "Now there's a scary thought. Never mind a dead TARDIS and the end of all life as we know it..."

"Uh—Not entirely sure that's a good idea, Doctor. Remember what happened with that power coupling a while back." Rory told him uncertainly.

"How could I forget?" The Doctor smiled ruefully. "However, there's nothing to distract you this time. So you should be fine, knock wood. Oh. There's no wood here, is there? Damn. Never mind. Just pitch in and do your best, Rory. Remember, you're _British_."

"I'm not sure about this, Doctor. How are we going to fix the TARDIS, if you can't see what I'm doing? Isn't that dangerous?" Rory said, worried about the idea of fixing a machine he knew little or nothing about.

"I suppose I could make myself a seeing eye K-9. Unfortunately, I'd need my sight to do that. Which means you're going to have to become my seeing eye human."

"Yeah., I suppose. We don't have much choice, do we?" Rory admitted hesitantly, shining his light on the dark TARDIS controls up on the console deck. "One thing, Doctor."

"Yes, Rory?" Came the Doctor's impatient reply.

"If you expect me to bark, I'm outta' here."

The Doctor nodded and smiled. "Oh, alright. Deal."

Sighing, Rory got up and helped the Doctor to stand, guiding him towards the steps

"But I can I ask you to fetch?" Came the Doctor's hopeful voice in the darkness.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The TARDIS landed with a reassuring thump. The Doctor left Amy to go and check on the readings from outside the ship. Scanning the readings on a miniature computer screen set into the waist-high control console, the Doctor smiled and gave a satisfied nod.

Watching this older, fey version of the Doctor from her rickety beach chair, Amy tugged the blanket over her chest and wondered what it had been like travelling with him. Assuming this Doctor had had someone with him in the TARDIS. She couldn't picture him on his own. That would just seem too sad.

This Doctor reminded her of someone. And then it occurred to Amy who that was. The janitor at her former primary school, Mr. Savitt. The spry little man had been a kind, cheerful bloke. Every year Mr. Savitt was asked to play one of Santa's elves as part of the village's Christmas fete, and the man was totally into it. Didn't take his pointy ears and wee green hat off for weeks. Refused to take down his Christmas lights. Even had a toy workshop in his basement. It was too bad they finally had to section him, a few years back, after Mr. Savitt tried to drive his sleigh on to the roof of the council hall. She wondered what ever happened to the reindeer.

"What are you doing?" Amy asked, realizing that she was wool gathering. The Doctor had bent down to peer at a tiny green flashing light on the console.

"It seems the first of our help has arrived." The Doctor told her, as he came over and stood beside Amy's chair. "I had the TARDIS automatically give each of the other TARDIS' completely different coordinates. Very important to avoid different versions of the same ship materializing too close together."

"What happens then?" Amy inquired.

"Complications." Was all the Doctor would tell her.

Amy looked up as the Doctor fussed with his kit, brushing down his gray and navy plaid trousers. Next he checked his colourful jumper vest for stains, smoothed down his cream jacket with his hands and straightened his paisley tie. Then he pulled a red cowboy bandanna out of his pocket and gave his black and white spats a quick swipe. Amy had to smother a laugh, because the Doctor was behaving as if he were about to go on a blind date.

"How do I look?" He smiled nervously at her as he stuffed the bandanna back down inro his trouser pocket. Where, Amy noted with a slight lift of an eyebrow, it gave off a noticeable bulge. "I wouldn't want my other selves to think that I'd let myself go" All of a sudden his face took on a disturbed look. He stared down at his the multi-coloured vest covering his stomach. "This doesn't make me look fat, does it?"

Amy couldn't stop herself this time. She threw her head back and giggled. The Doctor shot her a hurt expression.

Giving him an apologetic smile she said, "Sorry. You look fine. Really. Very, erm—nice. Definitely not fat."

"One thing I need to caution you about." The Doctor said to her seriously. "You must try and refrain from discussing anything about your time period or your travels with my future self. Even with me."

"Oh." Amy said, a puzzled frown creasing her brow. "Why's that?"

"Let's just say that it might cause some..." The Doctor began to explain.

"Let me guess." Amy interrupted. "Complications?"

"Precisely!" The Doctor beamed at her. "You're a very quick study, Amy Pond."

"That's life in the TARDIS." She smiled back. ". Always keeps me on my toe—"

Suddenly, Amy bent double, gripping her sides. She gave a harsh cry of pain. "Ow! Oh my God!" She gasped, as she began to shake with the chills. "What now?"

Bending over her solicitously, trying his best to comfort Amy, the Doctor's eyes took on a sorrowful cast.

"You've absorbed some of the chrono energy from the vortex. Take slow, deep breaths. Take your mind off the pain. Count down backwards from 100. Recite your favourite song lyrics. Say all the parts of a gavitronic atomizer out loud. That one usually works for me. I promise, the pain should subside in a moment. Then I'll go and get something to help calm your stomach."

"But my stomach's fine." Amy protested. "Oh." She quickly added, swallowing hard. Her expression abruptly bore a strong resemblance to that of a seasick landlubber. "Er—don't suppose you have any Pepto-Bismol on board, do you? And a barf bag may not be a bad idea, either."

"Alright Amy, you keep calm. Keep breathing slowly. I'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail." The Doctor told her gently.

Amy's hand on his arm, stayed him for a moment.

"What was that you said about chrono energy? You didn't mention that before."

"Because I wasn't entirely sure whether you'd come into contact with any. It's actually somewhat rare. There are scattered pockets of chrono energy about, but the vortex is so vast that you can travel in it for centuries and not come across any." The Doctor answered, not quite looking at her.

"But now you know?" Amy nodded. It was more of a statement than a question. "What will it do to me?"

"Well, that all depends." The Doctor waffled, "Without performing certain tests, there's no way of telling exactly how much of it you've absorbed."

"Doctor." Amy said, her voice level, almost angry. "I'm not a child. Tell me."

"To a human, it would act very much like a poison. It's been absorbed into your bloodstream. If it's below ten parts per billion, then all that will happen is that you'll feel ill for a few days. Not much worse than if you had stomach flu. If it's more..." His voice trailed off. Then he turned to go, saying,"You know, I really must get you something to help with that nausea. Don't want myselves standing around in sick when they get here. It'd be like that time Capone treated me to dinner at this quaint little Italian restaurant in Cicero." He gave a shudder at the memory. "_Bleurgh!_ Never get into a drinking contest with a Chicago gun moll."

As he turned to leave, Amy stopped him again. "Finish that sentence. The one about if it's more than ten parts per billion. Then what?" She looked in his eyes and said, "Please."

"Then..." He let out a weary sigh, suddenly seeming so very old and sad, "...there's not much that can be done for you, Amy. Even if we can reverse the damage the exposure to vortex energy caused your mind, which we can do, and if we get you back to your own time stream and prevent anything else from happening, there's no antidote for chrono energy poisoning. I'm sorry."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

There wasn't much to see, was the first thing they noticed. Just rocks, stones, mud and more rocks. The night wind was sharply cold. A full moon shone down with all its brilliance, the bright white illumination in the sky lending a subtle bluish tint to the landscape below. Cliff tops and rocky outcroppings cast what seemed to be impenetrable shadows.

"Why can't you time lords ever land somewhere really nice?" Donna complained, shivering and pulling her park closer about her. "Like Las Vegas or Barbados?"

"Too dull. It's places like this where all the action really is, Donna." The Doctor shrugged. He was wearing his long coat, but didn't seem to be paying much notice to the cold.

"Where are we then? Planet of the rocks?"

"Earth, this time. Quarry in Wales." Was all the Doctor would tell her.

"Pfft! What's so _adventurous_ about a quarry in Wales?"

"You'd be surprised, Donna." Unseen by her, the Doctor smiled secretively.

"Ouch!" She exclaimed, stubbing her trainer on a small rock. "Yeah, Doctor." Donna remarked dryly, "That was certainly a surprise. Look, I know you probably have some sort of spaceman's super vision, but this _human_ really could do with a torch."

"Right. Sorry." The Doctor nodded, searching his pockets. "Erm—you know Donna, where's your sense of adventure? A torch only gives you a false sense of security and..."

"...And you forgot to bring a torch, didn't you?" Donna arched her eyebrows at him. "I suppose a pair of night vision goggles is also out of the question, as well?"

The Doctor shrugged again. "Nobody's perfect, Donna. That also would be very boring, by the way."

"Well, at least we have the moonlight." Donna said, walking more slowly to avoid falling on the rocky floor.

The Doctor led the way towards a cliff face to the right of them. He seemed to know where he was going.

"No such thing as moonlight, Donna. It's merely the sun's reflection off of the lunar surface." He told her.

"Oh, get off!" Donna retorted. "If it's the sun's reflection, then it's not sunlight, either. And it gives off a completely different sort of light than the sun. What else should we call it?"

"Er—" The Doctor scrunched up his face, thinking about that for a second, "That...light in the sky that's..not the sun?"

Donna gave a derisive snort and slapped him playfully on the arm. "Oh come off it, Doctor! What would we do with a song like '_Moonlight Serenade, _then? Re-name it That Light In The Sky That's Not The Sun Serenade?"

"Oooh, I love that song. Very romantic. It was the planet Votar's biggest hit record, last time I was there. Number one tune on Tops of the Pops on VVC Three."

"Whatever you call it, I think it's beautiful." Donna asserted.

Looking up at the moon, the Doctor smiled, seeing it through Donna's eyes. "Yeah. It is lovely, isn't it? Maybe calling it moonlight isn't such a bad idea, after all—ooaf!"

Donna gave a start. The Doctor had suddenly tripped over a rock, sending him sprawling into the muddy floor of the quarry.

"Doctor!" She cried, crouching down over him. He groaned and moved an arm. "Are you alright?" She asked anxiously.

But the Doctor didn't reply. Donna realized with a shock that the Doctor was unconscious.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Donna shouted for help a full minute before she realized that there wouldn't be anyone around a deserted quarry at stupid o'clock in the morning. At least, not anything human. The Doctor was out cold. There was nothing much that she could do for him but wait until he had regained consciousness. Donna removed her parka. Bunching it up, she gently placed it under his head.

Skinny bloke though he was, the Doctor was still too heavy for her to carry back to the TARDIS. All she could do was try and make him more comfortable. Donna was on her own, shivering in the dark. The cold wind was dagger sharp. She cursed under her breath as a sudden gust kicked up, plunging its icy knife through her now unprotected body.

Then Donna realized she heard something. Something familiar. A wheezing groan. She shook her head. It was a trick. The night wind. A wishful thought. The noise grew louder. The wind blew stronger. Donna's jaw dropped. No way! It couldn't be!

Before her eyes, just a few meters away, another TARDIS began to materialize.

It was but a moment before the door creaked open. Out stepped a middle aged, dignified looking gentleman in Victorian-style dress. He gazed around him with the same delighted expression she'd so often seen on the Doctor's face.

Of course! Donna stared down at the unconscious Doctor. It must be one of his other selves he'd been nattering on about in the TARDIS. She hadn't taken him seriously, of course. When he'd explained that there were nine other versions of him out there, she'd thought he was taking the mickey again. Yet here was another, nearly identical TARDIS. She couldn't deny that reality.

Then again, Donna frowned, how was she to know if this _was_ another version of the Doctor? Since travelling in the TARDIS, she'd learned not to take everything she saw or experienced at face value. She thought to herself, look what doing that did for Mr. Halpin on the Ood Sphere. If he'd not been so wrapped up in outward appearances, maybe then he'd have realized that there were far bigger issues out there, than male pattern baldness and corporate sales figures.

"Hullo!" Said new arrival, interrupting her thoughts. He was stood gazing down at Donna and her version of the Doctor with a curious look. "What have we here?"

"Well don't just stand there and gawk." Donna replied, shaking her head at him and rolling her eyes. "We're not some tourist attraction. He's hurt! I could use a little bit of help here, mate."

"Yes of course. Quite right, my dear." The man said ruefully, rubbing his chin.

He knelt down, putting an ear to the Doctor's chest. His eyes widened in surprise, as he trained his ear to the other side of the Doctor's chest. Straighting up, he had an astounded face.

"By heavens, he's one of us!" The man exclaimed. "Another Time Lord."

"If you're the Doctor, then he's you." Donna told him. "And if you're not the Doctor, then I'm warning you right now, mister. I can show you a very effective defensive move I learned from a certain Sontaran." She bluffed, still not entirely sure she wanted to trust this man.

For one thing, this 'Doctor' reminded her slightly of a rugby player she'd once dated. The bloke was polite enough. Yet, he also treated her like some helpless female. He'd found out otherwise, when he tried his own version of a rugby tackle on her, in the front seat of his car one night. Donna knew those little pliers she kept in her bag would come in handy, one day.

"I'm the Doctor, alright. Nothing to fear from me, I promise you." He responded with an annoyingly patronizing smile. As he pulled out what appeared to be a simpler version of the Doctor's sonic screwdriver, he said, "And whom, may I ask, might you be?"

"Donna. Donna Noble. Human." She said to him shortly. "What one are you, then?"

"Pardon?" He asked, momentarily taken aback by the question. "Oh. I see. You mean which regeneration, don't you?"

"Well I don't mean what shoe size, sunshine. Can you help him, or can't you?" She nodded to the prone figure on the floor.

"To answer your first question, I've regenerated twice. Which I suppose makes me number three. As for this young fellow, I think I can help him, yes. What happened?" The other Doctor said to her.

"We were walking along and he tripped or something." She shrugged.

"How embarrassing!" The other Doctor smiled. "Thank goodness I didn't regenerate. I'd never live that down. Right then, let's see if this will work, shall we?"

Donna watched as the other Doctor—whom she began to think of in her mind as, '_Doctor Dramatic_', pressed his sonic screwdriver. against the fallen Doctor's temple. She thought his sonic looked rather lame compared with the version she was used to. To her, it looked more like a cross between an electric toothbrush and a tyre gauge. Pressing a switch, the sonic abruptly gave off a shrieking noise. Donna's Doctor immediately sat bolt upright.

"No!" He shouted, wide-eyed. "Not the enema probe!"

"Relax, my good fellow! You're quite alright, I assure you." The other said.

Coming to his senses, Donna's Doctor looked not a bit surprised to see the older version of himself. In fact, he looked a bit piqued.

"Oh no. It had to be you, didn't it?"

"I say," the other Doctor said wryly, helping Donna's Doctor to stand, "your regeneration is very young this time. I'd hoped I would have avoided a mid-life crisis. It's a wonder you didn't redecorate the TARDIS interior as well, while you were at it."

"Erm—" Was all a suddenly uncomfortable Doctor could say, as he stood up.

"And what happened to your hair?" The other Doctor questioned. "Did you accidentally electrocute yourself?"

Despite the bizarre situation, Donna sniggered. The 'young' Doctor shot Donna a dirty look as he snatched the parka up from the ground and thrust it at her. Shoving his hands into his coat pockets, Donna's Doctor then stalked off towards the nearest cliff face, without so much as a backwards glance.

"Come on, you two." He huffed. "Save the chit-chat for tea time. We've got people to rescue, universes to save, yadda-yadda-yadda. Alonz'y!"

"Oh dear. He's speaking French, as well." The other Doctor sighed, politely taking Donna's arm. He looked at her. "Am I a poof, now?"


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"Well, that's certainly an alien landscape if ever I've seen one." Sarah Jane commented, staring at the moonlit scene outside the TARDIS that was appearing on the monitor screen in the wall. "Where are we, Doctor?"

"It's a quarry in Wales." The Doctor told her distractedly, as he checked various readings on the console.

"Wales?" A chagrined Sarah responded. Giving an ironic grin she shrugged, "I see. So only pseudo-alien, then."

"Yes, I suppose it is, Sarah." The Doctor muttered seriously, though a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I'm just checking to make sure I don't run into myself too soon. Get two or more TARDIS' landing too close together and the next thing you know..." His voice trailed off as he frowned at a tiny flashing green light on his console.

"And the next thing you know..." She prompted him, tilting her head mischievously, "...your semi-detached TARDIS becomes a terraced one?"

Winding his long, colourful scarf about him, the Doctor walked over to the hat stand. He took down his floppy hat and jammed it on his head. "Not quite, Sarah. No. More like the entire space-time continuum collapses in on itself and implodes, taking everything in existence with it." He lectured her sonorously. Pausing for a fraction of a second, he added more lightly, "Either that, or we'll spend the next hundred years arguing over which one of us took the other's parking space."

"Right. Not a good thing, then. I have an idea, Doctor." She quipped, as he threw the door switch, "Don't land near any other TARDIS'."

"Ah. Good thinking, Sarah. I wonder why that thought never occurred to me?" He smiled, as he started for the door.

As usual, a square of the white wall with the large roundels swung inward. The pair of them walked outdoors, the Doctor leading the way. The moonlight revealed some very unpalatable scenery, Sarah Jane thought. Digging into his capricious pockets, the Doctor took out an old-fashioned square torch. Although resembling paraffin lantern, the battery-powered torch gave off a comforting yellow circular glow out ahead of the Doctor.

"According to the readings, there are already three TARDIS' present. None of them close by. The one we want is on the other end of the quarry, so we'll be some time getting there. Still, it's a lovely night

for a bit of a ramble." He told her, as he strode on ahead.

"Oh yeah, Doctor. I've always wanted to go for a midnight stroll through a Welsh quarry." Sarah replied with mild sarcasm.

Which seemed to be lost on the Doctor. "That's the spirit, Sarah!" He said, as he skirted around a deep puddle. "A little fresh air and exercise will do us both a world of good."

"Providing we don't fall and break our necks first, that is." Sarah whispered to herself, as she strove to keep up with the Doctor through the muddy, stony terrain without doing just that.

###

"No! No! No! You mustn't do that! Not now!" The Doctor shouted at the TARDIS console. "What about Jamie and Zoe? I can't just leave them in the midst of history's most famous cavalry charge.

That won't do at all. Can't you see?"

However, the TARDIS didn't seem to be paying one whit of attention to him. The Doctor wrung his hands. Staring helplessly at the non-responsive controls, he stamped his foot in frustration. "Oh! Why aren't you listening to me, you stubborn old thing? This is just awful. If anything happens to them I'll never forgive myselves."

As soon as the central column stopped moving and the TARDIS had arrived at its destination, a tiny green light on the console began flashing. Bending down, the Doctor pulled his magnifying glass out of his coat pocket. Peering at the light through the lens, he scowled. Then after going round checking the readings, the Doctor sighed in resignation.

"Protocol number 378, eh?" he said to himself, "I suppose I really don't have much of a choice then, do I? Poor Jamie and Zoe. Well, there's nothing for it, I'm afraid. Dear, me! This is a fine state of affairs."

The Doctor pulled out his well-thumbed diary and consulted it. "Hmm—where did I put that? I'm sure I wrote it down somewhere under the _T's_." Flipping through the pages he murmured, "Let me see...table tennis, tamale recipe, TARDIS owner's manual...oh, so _that's_ where it got to! Never thought to look in the bathroom magazine rack...tea cozy patterns, test tubes, Theta's Theorem—a classic if I do say so myself, tiara, timepieces, tonsillectomy...ah-ha! Yes, of course. That's the one!" He exclaimed with satisfaction.

Pocketing the diary, the Doctor went over to one of several large antique wooden chests taking up a corner of the control room floor. Opening the lid of a captain's sea chest of mahogany and polished brass, he began rummaging about in there.

"If I'm being forced into mucking about some quarry in the middle of the night, I might as well go prepared." He muttered, as he flung a short purple and gold tunic from ancient Greece high over his shoulder.

Flying through the air, this article ended up draped over a tall, decorative gilt column standing behind him. That was followed by a quick succession of other objects: an old school tie, a packet of cheese and pickle flavoured crisps, a rubber tomahawk, a bowling pin and a powered wig—which made the Doctor sneeze violently. He got out a red and white polka-dot handkerchief, blew his nose nosily and pocketed it again.

"It _has_ to be here! According to my diary, I put it in here right after that little incident with the giant newts in Clearwell Caves." He huffed.

Persisting with his search, the Doctor hauled out yet another object, this time a long red feather boa. Then came a trout fishing net, a paperback mystery novel, a clock face with missing hands, a blue Venusian judo belt, a yo-yo, an authentic Lone Ranger cowboy hat, a pirate flag, a kazoo, a pair of pink ballerina shoes, and finally, a large battery-operated torch.

"Why is it that the thing you are looking for, is always the very last thing you find? Or is that just me?" The Doctor pondered as he carefully closed the chest. Ignoring the mess on the floor, he proclaimed, "Now I really must be off!"

Opening the TARDIS door, he went outside. Flicking on the torch, the Doctor breathed a sigh of relief that it still worked. "That's more like it!" He smiled, setting off into the night, "Wouldn't want to trip over a rock and knock myself unconscious. That would be very silly of me."

Still talking to himself, he said, "Thank heavens I don't have far to go. I just hope that when I'm finished here, the TARDIS has the sense to take me back to the right time period. Four hundred years later and I'll end up at Sebastopol Towers. Though at any other time, I wouldn't mind. I do love roller coasters."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Tegan shouted, even as she was forced to march across the pasture at gun point. Thankfully she'd missed stepping in any cow pats. She didn't fancy being locked up in some alien prison, reeking of cow dung.

The group of black and white cattle looked on placidly. A few interrupting their grazing, lifting their heads to give curious stares. The dog man in the combat fatigues stopped. He leaned towards Tegan, thrusting his gun into her face.

"I can track down the Doctor with or without you. But should that be without you, human, then I will leave you here. As a corpse. Your choice." He shrugged.

"Listen, Roger..." Tegan said.

"The name is Rogerious!" He snarled.

"Rogerious, Rover, whatever." Tegan told him defiantly, as she began walking again towards the waiting space ship. "Alright. You can take me as a hostage, but I should warn you. The Doctor has a lot bigger weapons in his TARDIS than that pistol.. _Time Lord_ weapons" She bluffed, hoping the bounty hunter was ignorant of the Doctor's pacifist tendencies.

The dog man snorted. "So?" He sneered, sounding almost childish in his defiance of this unknown threat. Though the truth was, he was a little afraid of the Time Lords. There was an air of mystique, of untold power about them, that he couldn't quite put his paws on."As it happens, I have something even mighty the mighty Time Lord would cower at." Rogerious bragged.

"Oh really?" Tegan said, trying to sound unimpressed.

"Come!" Rogerious said proudly. "I shall show you, human."

"I have a name, you know." She said, as they reached Rogerious' ship. "It's Tegan. Not human. Tegan. You got that?"

"What care I if you have a name, Human?" Rogerious shrugged. "You will stay here. Move not, or I shall be forced to kill you."

"You know, that's really beginning to annoy me. Look." Tegan huffed, as he forced her down on the grass beside the ship. "Either you stop calling me human, or I'll start calling you...Mr. Woofy."

The Dog man was about to go up the ramp into his ship. He paused, frowning and giving a low growl of disgust. "Mr. Woofy? Is that supposed to be some kind of human insult?"

"Short answer: yes." Tegan retorted.

"Than your insult is wasted. I will not give in to your petty attempts at baiting me. However, I have decided to humour you. _Tegan_. Stay here, if you do not wish to be killed. And you will see precisely how I shall deal with your Time Lord friend."

Holstering his pistol, the bounty hunter marched solemnly into his ship. Moments later, Rogerious returned. He was carrying what appeared to be a large silver suitcase. Kneeling down on the grass, he carefully unlatched the case. Inside, nestled in a velvet midnight blue cushioned lining, was something which made Tegan raise a skeptical eyebrow.

"You're going to give the Doctor a toy action figure?" She asked, puzzled. "What are you then? Some kind of canine Santa Claus?"

"This, Tegan, is hardly a children's play thing." He admonished.

Reaching into one of the many pockets on of his black combat fatigues, Rogerious produced a small, flat black device. It looked to Tegan almost like one of those new television remote controls she'd seen. The bounty hunter gingerly picked up the 'toy' and set it on the grass, well away from the ship. Stepping back, he held out the device in his hand and pressed a button.

Suddenly, the 'action figure' shimmered. It began to grow in size, until it was over four metres in height. What Tegan saw was nothing less than astonishing to her.

Standing there on the grass was some sort of robot. It had a gleaming, black flexible body suit. The sides of its slender, sturdy legs were decorated in gold Chinese style scroll work. The ornate breast plate covering its chest was decked out with a small red and gold dragon. Beneath the dragon was some sort of corporate logo bearing the words: '_Hwang Robotics Ltd._'.

Draped across the upper part of the breast plate was a bandoleer holding what looked like some type of small grenades. And while the black gloved right hand was similar to that of a human, there was no left hand at all. In its place, was some sort of revolving machine pistol.

However, it was the robot's head which caused Tegan's jaw to drop. For the head was that of a fierce looking dragon. Shining gold armoured scales reflected the crimson of the setting sun. It's eyes glowed ruby red. The thing's jaw opened, revealing a mouthful of silvery metal blades instead of teeth.

"What is that thing?" Tegan asked, gaping at the sheer size of it.

"What you so coarsely refer to as '_that thing_', is the latest model from Hwang Robotics." Rogerious told her proudly. "The KB-12. Better known as a '_kill-bot_.' The best assassination robot ever invented. Highly illegal to possess on most of the civilized worlds, of course. But, you can't have everything. Permit me to give you a demonstration, Tegan."

Rogerious pressed another button on his device. The kill-bot came to attention. It then began to go through a series of Ninja kicks, somersaults and other maneuvers, all with the grace of a ballet dancer. The bounty hunter pressed another button. Red laser beams shot from the kill-bot's eyes, severing part of the pasture's barbed wire fence as if it were made of paper. Another press of a button and the dragon robot suddenly stopped and spat a glowing fireball from its mouth. It shot like an arrow through the air, and hit a nearby pine tree, instantly setting it aflame. Bellowing in fear, the herd of cows bolted in all directions.

One of the creatures, in its panic, made a fatal mistake. It ran towards the robot. The robot leaned down and spewed a shower of green goo from its nose. It splattered all over the cow. The animal barely manged to give one single, terrified bellow, before the acid from the robot caused the cow to dissolve into the grass.

All the noise had disturbed a flock of crows. As they passed overhead, the robot reared up and gave a great mechanical roar. In place of fire, it belched a cloud of yellow smoke from its mouth. Several of the crows flew through the poisonous gas, instantly dropping dead.

"Stop it!" A distressed Tegan shouted. "Those poor things. You didn't have to do that! They were no threat to you."

"Very well." Rogerious said, reducing the robot to toy size once more. Scooping up the robot, he put it back into its case. "Though I fail to see why you should worry about creatures of such a low order. Perhaps you humans prefer spending your time with things that are as empty-minded as you are."

"They have a right to live, the same as you and me." Tegan told him, remembering something the Doctor had told her once, when the earth was being threatened by a hostile alien race.

"Not if I have any say about it, Tegan." Rogerious said ominously, drawing his pistol with his free hand. He gestured with it towards the ramp. "Now into the ship. I've wasted enough time on this miserable planet. Once I have nixed the Doctor, I can retire to the beaches of Hasti, where I'm told their gorgeous males go about un-attired. You may even be allowed to live, after the deed is done. I could use a slave to peel my fruit for me."

"Ha! That'll be the day. You just wait, Roger. The Doctor won't be stopped by some super space robot."

He only laughed, as he settled into the pilot's chair. "The kill-bot is made to be unstoppable. Nothing can harm it. It answers only to me. Ah, I can almost smell all those credits that bounty will fetch me. Let's face it, Tegan. Your Doctor is as good as dead."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The eleventh and third Doctor's, with Donna in tow, had found the second Doctor's TARDIS. It was tucked away in a corner of the quarry, nestled against the base of a cliff. Facing the wrong way. The three of them were confronted by a blank blue wooden panel. Sighing, the third Doctor gave a few sharp, staccato raps on it.

"All that knowledge inside your head, Doctor. And you still don't know how to park properly. Didn't they have learner's training on your planet?" Donna scowled, tilting her head to glare at her version of the Doctor. "Where'd you get your license? Was it like, the special prize in the bottom of a crisp packet?"

"What makes you think I'd need a license, Donna?" Her brown-suited Doctor sniffed.

"Never mind him." The other Doctor touched the side of his nose with his forefinger and said in a confidential tone, "I'm afraid sometimes I'm still a little embarrassed to admit that I didn't pass my test the first time 'round."

"What? What? WHAT! I'm not...!" Donna's Doctor shouted indignantly, his voice almost squeaking in protest. "OK. Now you're just taking the Mickey. You know that exam was passed with perfect marks."

"Yes. That much is true, I admit." The third Doctor nodded his affirmation to Donna. "Passed it on the fifteenth try. Couldn't quite get the hang of third gear. Of course, it always helps to have a er—_very_ _cooperativ_e test evaluator. She had quite crush on me, as I recall." He was interrupted by a sudden noise. "Ah! Here we go! Better step back, you two."

A brisk wind stirred the damp night air, as the familiar wheezing sound grew stronger. The second Doctor's TARDIS faded away. Then immediately came back again. This time, with the doors facing towards them.

"I see I'm not the first one here. However, I believe there is something to be said for being fashionably late." Came a smug voice from behind them.

"And I suppose that should go for me, as well." Said another, much more cheerful voice.

Turning to look at the new arrivals, Donna saw a sprightly, smiling dark haired man in a black coat & plaid trousers. He was accompanied by a larger, curly headed bloke in a clown costume. She thought they looked a tad like a Time Lord's version of Laurel and Hardy.

Raising her eyebrows, Donna said to her Doctor, "Is this how you used to dress? That friend of yours. Rose. She made you wear that suit, didn't she?"

"I am perfectly capable of picking out my own clothing, Donna." He told her, returning her raised eyebrow for raised eyebrow. "Anyone can buy off the rack. I prefer to go for individuality. Rose did like the suit, though. Every once in a while I'd catch her out of the corner of my eye, staring my trousers. Especially when I was bending down to tie my shoelaces, for some reason. Humans can be very strange, sometimes."

At that moment, the door of the TARDIS was thrown open. Giving Donna got her first glimpse of the Doctor's seventh incarnation. Once inside the console room, this version of the Doctor gave them all a brief run down of why they had been summoned. He then introduced them to Amy. For the time being, Amy had temporarily recovered from the pain brought on by the contamination in her system.

"Now," said the second Doctor, rubbing his hands eagerly, "since you're the first to arrive, we might as well get started straight away. The others should be along shortly. According to my readings, not including my own, nine other TARDIS' have landed."

"Hang on." Amy frowned up at the seventh Doctor from her chair. "Shouldn't there be ten?"

"One of us seems to have been delayed, unfortunately. Probably just a technical glitch. Nothing to worry about Amy, I'm sure." He shrugged.

"Alright, now plug the green end of the frison cable into the blue end of the magnon cable. Or, conversely, the thin wire goes into the thick wire. Got that? Green into blue. Thin into thick."

"Keep the light steady, Doctor. I can't see green from blue if your torch is shining on the ceiling."

"Look, Rory. I know you're only human. But, I don't suppose you can work a little faster?" The eleventh Doctor whinged. "It's not very comfy lying on my stomach like this. I'm probably getting dirt all over my very cool bow-tie. Which would make it very un-cool."

The still-blind Doctor was laying flat on the floor, concentrating on keeping his torch steady. With no lights on, Rory's task was made that much harder whenever the Doctor lost concentration. With his growing impatience, this was happening more and more frequently. Several times in the past few minutes, the Doctor had unconsciously shifted the torch beam away from beneath the console where Rory was working.

"Right." Rory countered patiently, "And if I make a mistake and blow up the TARDIS, because I've been nagged to hurry, or because I can't see what I'm doing, whose fault will that be?"

"Yours, of course! Don't ask silly questions, Rory. Now is not the time for silliness. That comes later. We'll wear panto costumes and recite naughty limericks while dancing a tango with lampshades on our heads. But only _after _ you've fixed the TARDIS. So get cracking!"

"We're...not actually going to do all those things, are we?" Rory asked hesitantly.

"Where's your sense of adventure, Rory?" The Doctor replied.

"In the broom cupboard. Along with my Roman sword and photos of my stag night." Rory quipped sourly.

"Oh, good. You've lost your sense of adventure, but not your sense of humour." The Doctor said dryly. Then he added, "Thing is, Rory. There won't be a broom cupboard if we can't get the power back online."

Rory nodded. "Good point, Doctor. Done here. What's next?"

"Help me up. You need to go to the control console, to realign the micronuclear cortex and link up the biofeedback couplings to the particle extractor."

"I have to do what?"

"Don't worry, Rory." The Doctor reassured him. "You're doing fine. Better than fine, even. Get going. I'll hum a few bars and you just keep trying to play along. When we're finished here, you'll be a shoe-in to win _Britain's Got Talent_."

"Or I'll be the one everyone points and laughs at." Rory mumbled, as he lead the Doctor up the stairs to the console deck. He paused. "Doctor? Do you really think Amy's OK?"

After a long pause, the Doctor said quietly, "Rory. You know I can't tell you that with absolute certainty." Then, he spoke more cheerfully, "Still, she's in good hands. Twenty pairs of them—well, twenty-one, if you count the hand I lost in that sword fight on Christmas day. What I mean is, Rory, try not to worry too much. I'm sure all ten of me are minding Amy, right now."

"That's what I'm afraid of, Doctor." Rory said skeptically. As they got to the console, he left the Doctor holding on the safety rail and took the torch from him. "One thing is for certain, though. I'm not going to get Amy back chatting about talent shows. So, tell me. Where's this cortex thingy I have to do whatever to?"


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

In the Seventh Doctor's TARDIS, everyone was given a task.

Amy's deck chair had been moved closer to the console, so that she could trigger the door switch should one of the other Doctor's arrive while the others inside were busy. Donna was standing next to the sixth Doctor. He had one of the large glass roundels off of the wall to the left of the door, revealing a mass of brightly lit, multi-colured wiring. Donna was holding things for him, so he could work with his hands free.

In the meantime, the tenth Doctor had removed his coat and suit jacket and loosened his tie. He lay on his side, intently using his sonic screwdriver to make minute adjustments to bits of circuitry at the base of the console. The second Doctor was kneeling alongside him, switching some motherboards around.

In the TARDIS' interior, the third Doctor was searching various store rooms for something called a glockometer switch, while the seventh Doctor was busy in the infirmary. He was frantically looking for anything that might help relieve Amy's symptoms.

"Hand me those Zeus plugs, Donna." The sixth Doctor said.

"The what?" Donna didn't have a clue.

"He means those round black things with the wires attached." The tenth Doctor called out to her, as he continued working. "Sort of look like headphones."

"Oh. Why do you call them Zeus plugs? Did ancient Greek gods have ipods?" She asked curiously.

Suddenly, the wiring in the wall blew with a few sparks and a puff of white smoke. Crying out, the sixth Doctor snatched his fingers away.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Donna asked skeptically. "Maybe you should get a man in."

"Typical human. Think they know everything. When they know nothing!" The sixth Doctor said to himself. Giving a dramatic put-upon sigh, he asked Donna, "My dear woman. Do I even remotely look like some kind of an idiot?"

In answer, Donna stepped back, her eyes critically appraising this version of the Doctor.

"Meh." She answered, bringing her hand up and shaking it slightly for emphasis. "I think you should've taken that coat off, before you asked me that question, mate."

Unseen by them, the tenth Doctor broke into a lopsided grin. He snickered into his sleeve. Then paused in his task as the second Doctor spoke softly to him.

"Very independent, isn't she?"

"Yeah." The second Doctor's smile widened. "Donna's just...brilliant. Never a dull moment. Well, except for that trip to the shopping mall planet. Bleurgh! I'll have nightmares for the rest of my life. Although, I did end up getting a great deal on a fondue pot at TL Max."

"I must say, your Donna's quite different from most of my female companions." The second Doctor commented, as he patched in a bit of wiring. "Polly was always busy doing her nails. Of course, that nail varnish did come in handy when the Cybermen invaded that moon base. To be honest though, there are times when I could do without all the screaming. I've been considering training my ears to go deaf at key moments."

"Sometimes Donna almost makes me miss the screaming." The tenth Doctor told him in a hushed whisper, as he went back to work. "Blimey, she can shout! They could mount her on a rooftop and use her as an air raid hooter. I've even taken to calling her '_Foghorn Leghorn_' behind her back." He paused, then cautioned, "Don't ever tell Donna I said that. She has one helluva' right hook."

Just then, a strident beeping sounded from the console. A large yellow light began to wink on and off. The second Doctor checked the console. "Keep working." He told the tenth and sixth Doctors. "I'll check this out."

"It seems this part of Wales is about to become a bit crowded. Another ship is preparing to land. About a half a mile from this quarry, by the looks of it." The second Doctor said, his face creased with a puzzled frown.

"Is it another TARDIS?" Amy asked.

"No, doesn't seem to be. It's a space ship. A rather old one apparently, judging by the radiation signature she's giving out. According to these readings, she's a Triellian passenger yacht. Oooh, that's a classic! I haven't seen one of those in ages. I wonder what it's doing here?" He pondered.

The second Doctor was interrupted by a startled cry from Donna. Without warning, Amy had fainted. She ran over to to Amy's chair, and knelt down beside her.

"Oh dear! Poor Amy! I'd better go and see what's keeping my counterpart. He should have found something in the infirmary by now! Probably busy playing with the tongue depressors." The worried second Doctor said, as hurried into the TARDIS interior.

Donna stroked Amy's hair and suddenly felt completely helpless. Then she realized that the other two Doctors in the room had kept on working.

"Are you going to help her? Or are you too busy with your little DYI project to bother?" Donna demanded of her version of the Doctor. "I suppose after nine hundred years, you probably get used to this sort of thing."

The tenth Doctor suddenly froze. His face first took on a hurt look, then hardened into anger. Placing his sonic on the floor, he stood and stared at Donna for a long moment. She was so startled by the expression on his face, that for once, Donna was suddenly at a loss for words.

"The one thing I hope I'll never get used to Donna, is seeing suffering and pain." He told her bitterly. "Why would you even think that I..." He paused. Then taking a deep breath, he went on, "Yes. Sometimes I do get a little caught up in events, I admit that. And I know that's no excuse. Yet, if I dwell too much, or too long, on all the suffering and grief I've seen, I'll go mad as a March hare." He smiled at her sadly. Kneeling down beside Donna and the unconscious Amy, he said more softly, "I do care. Really, I do. I wish I could help Amy right now. But that won't happen unless all of us work together to fix things. That's why I kept on working. I knew Amy was in good hands, Donna. Yours."

"I'm sorry, Doctor." Donna said, suddenly feeling ashamed of her outburst. Then she smiled and gave him a nudge. "Go on, then! What are you waiting for? Get back to work, you."

Returning the smile, the Doctor was about to retrieve his sonic, when there came a knock on the TARDIS door.

"Are you two going to spend the rest of the day playing at your little soap opera? Or are you going to answer the door?" The sixth Doctor called out to them. "I would. Only, unlike the rest of you, I am a bit busy at the moment."

The tenth Doctor frowned at the sixth, slamming the door lever. The wide wall panel of glass roundels swung inward. There at the threshold stood five other Doctors, with Captain Jack and Sarah Jane hovering in the background.

The forth Doctor stood there, his long scarf wrapped securely about him. Removing his floppy hat in greeting, he broke into a wide grin. "Hello! Did we miss anything?"


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"Quickly now! Help me get her up into a sitting position." The fifth Doctor, whom Donna noticed was wearing what looked something like ye olde cricket kit, had rushed over to Amy's aid.

Amy had slumped forward, her head resting on her knees. As this version of the Doctor supported her back, Donna gently eased Amy upright again. She noted with concern that Amy was now flushed and sweating. Her breathing had become more rapid and shallow, as well. The fifth Doctor slipped on a pair of wire-framed glasses and knelt down next to the chair. He felt Amy's pulse, while making note of her respiration rate.

Sarah Jane came over and stood beside Donna. "Anything I can do to help?"

"There's not a lot any of us can do for her, at the moment I'm afraid. Other than to keep trying to make her as comfortable as possible." The fifth Doctor said.

"Donna?" The Tenth Doctor asked, as he continued working at the base of the TARDIS console, "Is Amy alright?"

Donna looked questioningly at this other Doctor. He smiled at her reassuringly. She rather liked him. He sort of reminded her of '_her_' version. Right down to trainers and glasses. So that's where he got that from! She noted to herself to ask '_her_' Doctor what else was a holdover from his other regenerations, when they got back to his TARDIS.

"I think she'll be alright for now. It's only too bad she's human. If she were a Time Lord we could fix her right up with a bit of celery." The Doctor with Amy said, glancing down at the celery stalk affixed to his lapel. He spoke out to the others, "But I would recommend that you all speed things along a little. The sooner we can reverse the process, the better off she'll be. Has anyone got a stethoscope?"

"In my coat, Donna! Right hand pocket." The tenth Doctor called out.

"Hang on, I've got one." The forth Doctor said, rummaging through his own capricious pockets. He stopped abruptly. His face fell. "Oh! I forgot. I traded it for a bag of Jelly Babies and two satsumas last week, in Portabello Road."

"Good trade. Satsumas do come in handy, sometimes." The tenth Doctor told him.

"No worries, I have my own stethoscope right here." The second Doctor replied cheerfully, as he reached into his own coat pocket and produced the requested item.

"She's in stable condition for the moment." The fifth Doctor said to them, slipping in the ear pieces, preparing to listen to Amy's heart. "However, I have no idea how long that will last."

"If that is the case, might I suggest that you all stop jabbering at each other? This is no time for gossiping. Get busy. Chop chop!" The first Doctor said, standing in the doorway, hands on his lapels, assuming an air of authority.

"Good lord! You were always that bossy?" Captain Jack said to the ninth Doctor, as the two of them worked on prying a couple of the roundels off. "And here I thought it was just the onset of old age making you so cranky."

"Old? Me? I'm only a little over nine-hundred. In human terms, you and I are practually the same age." His leather jacketed Doctor snorted, glancing at Jack with an insulted expression. "Look, Jack. I'd just left Galifrey. Leaving hundreds of years of pomp and ceremony behind. And the high council wasn't exactly too keen on the idea of me going so...abruptly."

"Yeah." Jack grinned. "I suppose TARDIS-jacking wasn't a sanctioned activity."

"Sarah! Come here a moment, would you?" The forth Doctor called from where he stood beside the console.

"Hello there!" Jack said, as Sarah passed him.

"Stop flirting!" The ninth and tenth Doctor both scolded him.

"I only said 'hello.' Jack protested.

"For you, that's the same as asking Sarah for her phone number." The tenth Doctor said.

"You'd better not tell me to bring in the tea trolley, Doctor." Sarah chided the forth Doctor with a mock frown, as she went to his side.

"Heaven forbid, Sarah!" The forth Doctor smiled up at her. He was crouched down, fiddling with a piece of the TARDIS console . "There is something you can do for me, though."

"Alright. How can I help?" She asked him eagerly.

"Hold my coat for me, will you?"

"Oh thanks a lot, Doctor!" Sarah shook her head, exasperated. "You might as well ask me to pass out the biscuits too, while you're at it."

"Did somebody say something about biscuits?" The seventh Doctor said, scurrying back into the control room. He was carefully holding a small vial of red liquid. "You know what? I think some custard creams would go down a treat right now. Has anyone made tea, yet?"

"I hardly think now is the time for tea and cake. Much as I would like to indulge. I'm feeling a bit parched, myself." The eighth Doctor said, as he quickly set about unraveling a long tangle of power cables. "However, if we're going to link the TARDIS matrix to the heart of the vortex, we'll need every bit of our concentration. Very delicate operation. As you all know. Could punch a hole in the space-time continuum that would destroy everything. And if you don't mind me saying so, the one thing we don't need right now, are any distractions."

"Yes, yes. We know that, young man!" The first Doctor told him shortly, as he observed the activity in the control room. "No need to state the obvious."

"I for one am perfectly capable of drinking tea, using my sonic and chewing gum at the same time." The tenth Doctor commented. "Not that I plan on doing that. I'm out of gum."

Just then, the third Doctor came back into the control room. He was carrying cardboard box which had the words, '_Posh-Wash Dish Washing Liquid _ _24 Bottles_' printed on its side. The box was filled with an assortment of odd items. These included some old radio tubes, a bicycle clip, a set of jumper cables, a number two pencil, a bundle of multi-coloured wires, and a round silver sphere covered with what appeared to be blue Christmas lights.

"Ah!" The third Doctor said, smiling. "Good! I see the others have arrived. Except for one of us, it seems. Wonder what's keeping him?"

"Never mind that!" The sixth Doctor called out to the third Doctor. "What's been keeping _you_? I've been waiting ages for those items. Were you busy fussing with your hair again?"

"My good fellow." The third Doctor sniffed at the sixth, "I assure you that hair styling is the last thing on my mind at this moment."

"Speaking of hair," The first Doctor said, as he made his way through the crowd to the console, "what happened to yours? Did you touch a live wire recently?" he asked the tenth Doctor curiously.

"What's wrong with my hair?" The tenth Doctor complained crossly.

"I like the hair. Very metrosexual." Captain Jack said, turning to wink in the tenth Doctor's direction. "Kinda' hot, you know?"

The tenth Doctor didn't reply. He only muttered something under his breath as he kept working.

"Would you lot kindly refrain from using old low Galifreyan around me." The first Doctor sternly reprimanded the tenth. "I certainly never used that sort of language in _my_ TARDIS."

"I think you're forgetting when Ian accidentally triggered the fire defense system, and you got covered in foam." The ninth Doctor chipped in, as he used his sonic screwdriver on some circuits in the exposed TARDIS wall.

"And you've forgotten the day Susan turned up the console speakers full blast, broadcasting American rock n' roll music." The forth Doctor contributed, as he set about plugging some wires into a panel on top of the control console. "I..I mean, you, threatened to send Elvis back to the stone age."

"Oooh. The language." The tenth Doctor winced at the memory, as he sonicked another circuit. "You have to admit. You were in a high dudgeon that time."

"Hmmm—yes. And I remember you had some very naughty things to say, that day you almost shot off your foot with Wyatt Earp's pistol." Pitched in the third Doctor.

"And after you found out you'd accidentally become engaged to that Aztec woman," the fifth Doctor added, as he continued to monitor Amy's vital signs. "you weren't exactly speaking in old high galifreyan, that time, either."

"Then there was that day when you stepped in that that dinosaur poo, as well." The second Doctor said. "I seem to remember a few choice words being said. Can't say I blame you, though. The TARDIS _was_ stinky for a while."

The tenth Doctor abruptly laughed long and loud at the memory, pausing only to wipe the tears of mirth from his eyes. "Oh yes! I'd completely forgotten about that! Imagine the look on my..I mean, your face!"

"Hey! Would you keep it down? I'm trying to concentrate here." Jack said to him. "Jeez. You sound like a manic-depressive off his medication, Doctor."

"Excuse me, sunshine?" An incensed Donna glared angrily at Jack from her place beside Amy. "Last time I heard, laughter wasn't a symptom of mental illness."

"Relax, Donna. It's fine." The tenth Doctor tried to calm her.

"Yeah? Well, it's not '_fine_' to me. My mother's got bi-polar disorder. You know, just because mum laughs or gets angry, doesn't mean that she's ill. Or stopped taking her medication." Donna said to Jack. "I hate it when people say things like that. It's stupid and mean."

"Reckon she's got us both there, Jack." The tenth Doctor said quietly.

"You're right, Donna. I'm sorry." Jack apologized.

"Me too." The Doctor said to her.

"Wait!" The tenth Doctor's head shot up, narrowly missing the bottom edge of the control panel on the console. He stared at Donna with genuine surprise. "Your mum laughs?"

"_Foghorn Leghorn_?" She shot back at him, sarcastically.

"Erm—yeah. Sorry about that, Donna." the tenth Doctor replied sheepishly.

"It's OK. Spaceman." Donna smiled at him to show she held no hard grudges.

The seventh Doctor had brought the fifth the vial of liquid. "Here you are. Give her this. It should help to bring Amy around. Might settle her queasy stomach, as well."

Just then, the TARDIS shook as if from a violent blow. It sent everyone inside either reeling about the floor, or grasping on to things for dear life. Faintly, they all heard a loud boom from outside.

"What the hell?" Jack said.

"That seemed to be an explosion of some kind. Very close, by the feel of it. Let's have a look." The seventh Doctor said to the others.

The seventh Doctor quickly punched up the video screen on the wall. He and the other Doctors all gaped in surprise at what they saw there.

"Dear me!" The second Doctor said worriedly. "That's not good at all."

"I don't believe it!" Spoke out a suddenly very unhappy fifth Doctor. "It can't be!"

"Oh good. More distractions." The eighth Doctor sighed dramatically. "Talk about putting a spanner into the works."

"What in Rassilon's name is going on?" The third Doctor exclaimed.

"Well, I don't think they're doing any night quarrying. But, you never know. Humans do get funny notions, sometimes. Especially the Welsh." The forth Doctor said to him.

"I thought you said this quarry was deserted, though?" Sarah questioned the forth Doctor.

"It's not deserted. We're here, aren't we?" The ninth Doctor snorted.

"Us and someone else, apparently." The sixth Doctor said, to no one in particular.

"Maybe I should take a look outside." Jack sprang for the door, reaching for the revolver hidden under his coat.

"No, wait! Don't you dare, Jack!" The tenth Doctor warned angrily, putting out his hand in a 'stop' gesture. "No guns in the TARDIS. Hold off until we're sure who or what is out there."

"What is it? What's happening?" Donna asked the tenth Doctor.

"I should think that would be obvious, my dear woman." The first Doctor told her condescendingly. "We're under attack!"


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

"Are you lot gonna' just stand there gawping at that screen? You look like tourists in Times Square. Or are you gonna' do something? Preferably, before we get blown to bits." Donna scolded the Doctors.

"Nonsense! Those bombs won't even put a dent in the TARDIS." The forth Doctor told her, moving his eyes rather innocently away from the monitor screen on the wall.

"No, but they can certainly give us one doozy of a headache." Sarah said to him, wincing as another explosion shook the TARDIS.

"Well, we can't have that, can we, Sarah Jane?" The third Doctor smiled down at her reassuringly.

"It's getting him or it to stop, that's the tricky part." The tenth Doctor sighed. "The minute one of us sticks our head out that door..." his arms flew up in the air, "_WHOOM_!" He gave a mischievous wink to Donna. "That's a technical term, by the way."

Before she could reply, Donna was thrown against the tenth Doctor, as the TARDIS shuddered from another blast. He nearly fell down himself, as he tried to keep her upright.

"You OK, Donna?" he asked her.

"Yeah." She sighed. "But you lot really should think about installing some padded floors. Instead of sitting here getting the rock n' roll treatment, why don't you simply take off? I mean, it's a ship. You can dematerialize or whatever, and land somewhere else. Can't you, Doctor?"

"But then young woman, we'd never find out who wants to kill us." The first Doctor said with a patronizing smile, wagging his index finger in the air. "Or, why."

"Maybe you would know, if you'd installed a security intercom on this thing." Donna retorted.

"Well, whomever it is, I'd say they aren't here to sue for any peace negotiations." The fifth Doctor nodded grimly at the monitor screen, as a bomb landed just four meters from the TARDIS, pelting its sides with a shower of mud and stones.

"It certainly isn't the Avon lady." Jack said.

"An encyclopedia salesman?" Sarah Jane joked, "Won't take no for an answer?"

"No. I don't think they want to come in for tea and a cozy chat beside the fire. They just want to kill us." The seventh Doctor shook his head.

"Hrumph!" The first Doctor snorted., as he curiously watched the blinding flashes that came with yet more explosions. "Thank you all for saying what I already know. What would I do without you?"

The fifth Doctor shot the first Doctor a sour look. He was about to say something in reply, when he was interrupted.

"What a minute. There's something else out there. Coming towards us, I think. But I can't quite make out what it is." The eighth Doctor said, squinting up at the screen.

"Good!" The second Doctor smiled, clapping his hands together in his eagerness. "Maybe now we can begin to get some answers."

Out of the darkness an enormous shape loomed. As it drew nearer to the TARDIS, the flash of nearby explosion gave the occupants inside the ship a better look at what the object was.

Jack let out a low whistle of disbelief. "It can't be! I don't believe it! I thought they'd all vanished out of existence, centuries ago." He said.

"What vanished?" Sarah Jane asked him.

"They're called kill-bots." The sixth Doctor told her.

"Oh. Is that all?" Sarah responded bravely, with light-hearted sarcasm. This was hardly a new experience for her. She'd recently had a close encounter with a giant killer robot, herself.

"A what?" Donna frowned.

"Kill-bot. Does precisely what it says on the tin, Donna." The tenth Doctor told her. "Literally, a killer robot. Nearly impossible to stop. Once it's programmed with a specific target, it doesn't quit until it accomplishes its task. Primarily built and used for political assassinations. Though a kill-bot can also totally eliminate the population of an entire planet, if instructed to do so. Banned in the year 6350 as part of the Treaty of Alpha Centuri."

"And I should know. I was there." The third Doctor agreed.

"That's impossible! I could have sworn they were all destroyed." The sixth Doctor said with a puzzled frown. "As I recall, I—I mean you," he nodded to the third Doctor, "stood there and watched them melt down every last kill-bot until they were molten slag. And then the slag was re-fired and turned into dust. And then I—I mean you, used the TARDIS to disburse that dust directly into a black hole."

"Yes. Right. Good. Thanks for the history lesson and the lovely walk down memory lane, you three." The ninth Doctor told them impatiently. He jabbed a finger at the image of the kill-bot on the screen. "Yet, there walks the proof that you missed one! And we've got it standing between us, and who or whatever is outside. I think what we should be discussing, if you'll pardon me for pointing out the glaringly obvious, is what the hell we're gonna' do about it."

"There's not much we can do, I'd say." The seventh Doctor told them with a worried frown, pointing at the monitor screen. "Look what it's doing there."

As they all watched, the kill-bot was pulling a thick, heavy black chain behind it. It ponderously began to wrap the chain around the entire outside of the TARDIS.

"What? What's going on?" Came Amy's groggy voice from the deck chair. "Rory?"

"It's alright, Amy." Donna told her gently, crouching down by Amy's side. "You're in the TARDIS. With the Doctor's. All of them. They're doing everything they can to help you."

Without warning, the bombs stopped. Then, a voice boomed into the TARDIS.

"My word! Somebody's patched into our audio circuits!" An astounded second Doctor cried, staring at the control console.

"_Doctor. I know you're in there. My name is Rogerious. By now, I'm sure you've noticed that the kill-bot is placing chains around your time ship. In case you're thinking to escape, I should tell you that those chains are forged from the heart of an ice star. And they're deadlocked." _

"I hope that doesn't mean what I think that means, Doctor" Sarah Jane asked the forth Doctor, shaking her head doubtfully.

"I'm afraid so, Sarah. Any metal made from the heart of an ice star is unbreakable." The forth Doctor told her. "And if they're deadlocked, then nothing we can do will unlock those chains."

"If we could get outside somehow, there'd be no way for us to cut them away from the TARDIS." The fifth Doctor contributed.

"Even if we were to dematerialize, we wouldn't be able to open the doors." The ninth Doctor said with serious finality. "There's no way out."

"At least, not unless we could build a temporary transmat of some kind." The second Doctor suggested hopefully.

As one, all the Doctors turned to the seventh Doctor with expectant eyes.

"Providing we have all the materials we need. And, erm—well, I'm afraid that's highly doubtful." The seventh Doctor shook his head, heaving a discouraged sigh. "I had to jettison one of the rooms while chasing down the Timewyrm, a while back. I'm afraid it was the one containing the emergency transmat components."

"If only we knew what they wanted!" The eighth Doctor said in an exasperated voice.

"Talking seems like a good idea. Maybe we can draw it out somehow. Get it to meet with us." The third Doctor said, tugging on his ear thoughtfully.

"Yes! I still have my Reichinspecktor's badge." The seventh Doctor said, perking up. "Maybe that would impress it."

"I have my psychic paper." The ninth and tenth Doctor's both said...before glaring at each other with an almost childish mixture of jealousy and possessiveness.

"Whomever it is, doesn't seem to be in the mood for polite conversation." Jack shouted, as they all were shaken by a close explosion.

"Or any conversation at all." The tenth Doctor said, steadying himself against the console. "Unless someone here speaks '_bomb_.' Mind you, you could go deaf trying to carry on that conversation. Provided you live long enough to translate it."

"Until whoever it is approaches us, it seems that we're stuck right here." The first Doctor told them. "So you'd all better get used to the idea."

"Oh, you've got to be kidding!" Donna said, casting an irritated glance at the various Doctors scattered about the room. "You mean to tell me, I'm stuck here listening to you lot holding bitch and moan sessions for the rest of my life?"

"I'm afraid so, Donna. Until they're removed," the tenth Doctor sighed, eying the door with a disturbed look, "We're trapped in here. We can't get out until those chains are unlocked by the person who put them there."

"Look at it this way. At least we'll be entertained." Jack quipped, trying to lighten the mood, "It'll be like watching a Time Lord version of Coronation Street."

"More like Jerry Springer, if you ask me." Donna said, frowning crossly at her version of the Doctor.

That's when Sarah Jane cottoned on to the fact that all ten of the Doctors were suddenly smiling at each other. "Alright. Give. What's made you all so giddy all of the sudden?" She said out loud.

"Because I love a challenge, my dear." The sixth Doctor answered.

"All of us, do!" The third Doctor nodded, his eyes sparkling with eagerness.

"Right! Let's get started!" Grinned the fifth Doctor.

"Brilliant!" Shouted the tenth Doctor gleefully. "Allons'y!"

"Fantastic!" Said the ninth Doctor, patting Jack on the back.

"Oh brother." Said Jack, with a resigned sigh.

"That's enough of that! Now settle down, all of you. We have to come up with some sort of plan. Here's what I think you should do..." began the first Doctor.

"Spoil sport!" The second Doctor retorted.

"Who put you in charge? I don't remember anyone calling for an election?" Asked the eighth Doctor indignantly.

"Here we go again." Shrugged Sarah Jane, rolling her eyes at Jack. He thought she looked quite sexy when she smiled.

"Jack, stop it! I told you, no flirting." The ninth Doctor admonished him.

"This is going to be worse than I thought." Jack muttered to himself. "It's like being trapped inside a pensioner's home."

"I think there's even a bath chair in the cupboard." Sarah whispered to him, with an amused twinkle in her eyes.

"Would somebody please tell me what's going on?" Demanded Amy from her deck chair.

They all turned as one, as if suddenly remembering why they were there in the first place.

"Erm-shorthand version: you're sick, we're tying to help you, but now we're all trapped inside the TARDIS by somebody named Rogerious and his killer robot." The tenth Doctor rattled off to her.

"Oh. Is that all." Amy sighed, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes. She still felt quite nauseous. "Situation normal, then."

"Hmm-yeah. I guess it is." The tenth Doctor agreed.

She opened her eyes again. Her eyes were having trouble focusing and her mind seemed fuzzy, as if everything around her wasn't quite real. "Where's Rory?"

"Rory, who?" The first Doctor asked. "I'm sorry young lady, there's nobody by that name here."

Just then, another, even stronger explosion shook the TARDIS. It sent the occupants reeling again. Part of the central console went up in a shower of smoke and sparks.

"RORY!" Amy shouted.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"Rory!" The voice of the still-blind eleventh Doctor echoed through the dead control room. Desperately he clung one-handed, upside down from the safety rail, shouting, "That's most definitely _not_ what I told you to do!"

"You said to turn the dial on my left. I absolutely remember you said the words '_my_ _left'_." Rory answered through gritted teeth, as he frantically gripped the TARDIS console with both hands to avoid being flung off.

Apparently, as Rory discovered the hard way, turning the dial in _that_ particular direction caused the Doctor's ship to suddenly flip upside down.

"No! No! No! When I said 'my' left, I meant _my_ left!" The Doctor shot back at him.

"Ah. Er—right. Sorry." Rory said, quietly embarrassed. He paused uncertainly, frowning into the darkness. "So...now what do I do?"

"Call me a wild optimist Rory, but I think turning that dial in the opposite direction would be a good start." The Doctor responded tartly.

"Erm—yeah. Two problems with that, Doctor." He said hesitantly. "The torch has gone. I can't see a thing. I've no idea where that dial is, anymore. And if I let go to search for it, I'll fall."

"Oh, it's all about you today, isn't it?" Came the Doctor's annoyed voice. "Alright, then. One thing at a time, then. By the sound of your voice, I'd say you're not far from the typewriter. If the console is upside down, it would be somewhere near your right hand. Just to be perfectly crystal clear, Rory, that's _your_ righthand, not mine. Can you reach out and feel for it?"

"OK. I'll give it a try." Rory's shrug was invisible in the darkness, as he let out a patient sigh and hoped for the best.

"There is no _try_, Rory. There is only do, or do not." The Doctor quoted sagely.

"I'm hanging upside down in the dark, and you're spouting Yoda at me? Cheers for that, Doctor." Rory said dryly.

"A very wise fellow." The Doctor snifed, "He's the one who told me bow ties were cool."

Rory had no answer for that. Instead, getting a firmer grip on the console with his left hand and foot, he tentatively sent his right hand exploring the now upside-down controls.

After several minutes of straining to find the typewriter, Rory finally succeeded. "Got it! Now what, Doctor?" he asked.

"What you're looking for should be just a few inches further along. It'll feel exactly like one of those dials you'd find on an old fashioned floor safe." Instructed the Doctor.

After a few tense moments, Rory's strained voice gasped, "It's getting a bit stuffy in here, Doctor. And cold. I'm trying, but it's too far. No, I'm sorry. It's no good! I can't reach!"

"No whinging!" The Doctor admonished him. "It hate it when humans whine. It's like having a mosquito buzzing around my ear. Now come on, get busy! Sitting around complaining isn't gonna' get the sheep sheared, ya' know. I believe in you. I know you can do it. Rory, Rory, he's our man. If he can't do it, nobody can!" The Doctor cheered him on.

"Not without falling and breaking my neck, I won't. I'm telling you Doctor, I can't do it." A quickly tiring Rory complained.

"Nonsense! You _can _do this, Rory." The Doctor asserted softly, almost kindly. "Because you'll do it for Amy."

There was a very long pause in the darkness. Then came a series of grunts, and a very loud and grumpy "_Ouch_!" from Rory. There was another short pause before everything abruptly shifted back again. The Doctor's head snacked on the glass of the TARDIS floor.

"_Ow_!" Yelled the Doctor and Rory both, this time.

Unseen by the Doctor, Rory had landed rather ungracefully, sprawled head down across the TARDIS console, his feet waving in the air. As he disentangled himself, Rory felt his way over to the Doctor, making careful note of his bearings.

"Now, Rory." The Doctor said to him, "Since neither of us can see at the moment, maybe I'd better take over from here. After all, she's my ship. If you can guide me over to the spot just below the monitor screen, I think I can get the life support and lighting working again."

As their hands clasped together, Rory for the first time noticed how much cooler the Doctor's fingers were. He wondered silently if it was a normal body temperature for a Time Lord, or if the Doctor had suffered some injury he wasn't telling him about. Slowly, he lead the Doctor over to the console, feeling over his head for the retro-television that the Doctor used for a monitor screen. He put the Doctor's hand on it.

"Alright now, there should be a toggle switch here somewhere." The Doctor said to himself, as his fingers delicately explored the surface of the console. "And as a certain mathematician once shouted in his bath, '_Eureka!'_ Though why he felt the need to yell in a bathtub, I'll never know."

There was a gentle whooshing sound, followed by a low, barely perceptible hum, as fresh air once again flowed into the control room. Rory noticed that it also began to get a bit warmer, as well.

"There! That's more like it." The Doctor's pleased voice said. "And now as I once famously said, "Let there be light!"

"Um—I thought that was God who said that?" Rory asked.

"Yeah. Him too. Fanboys, what can you do? They do say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Though these 'copycats' do weird me out a bit, sometimes. Like that bloke on Twitter a while back..." The Doctor rambled on, as he searched for the correct switch. "Oooh! Here we go!"

Rory breathed a sigh of relief as, all of the sudden, the control room was flooded with light.

"Wait! It's light, isn't it?" The Doctor said, as a smile of relief slowly spread across his face.

To check, he began waving his hand rapidly in front of his eyes. "That's me doing that, right? Not you? I'm not hallucinating? Not some wishful thinking on my part?" he questioned Rory anxiously.

"Wait a sec, let me have a look." Rory the nurse said, peering closely at the Doctor eyes. He held up two fingers. "How many fingers do you see?"

"I see two blurry fingers. When did your fingers get all fuzzy, Rory? And what's with the little black dots?"

"You're eyes look fine to me, Doctor." Rory reassured him. "I think the blurriness and black spots are only temporary. You'll be OK. But you probably should rest your eyes for a while. Or put on a pair of dark glasses, just to be...what? What is it?" Rory asked, as he saw the Doctor staring at something over his shoulder.

"Sweet Rassilon on a bicycle! That is so not good, Rory. In fact, that is one shed load of bad." Said the Doctor, his tone abruptly somber.

Rory whirled around, his eyes following the Doctor's disheartened stare. His horrified look was directed at the central column of the console. Rory's mouth dropped open with dismay at what he saw there.

The glass inside the time rotor was smashed and blackened, with a sickly green ooze flowing out of the base. Rory didn't need the Doctor to tell him that without the time rotor, there was no way the ship could travel through the vortex. Or even fly at all. It seemed that they were truly trapped, this time.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Rogerious had given the Doctor an ultimatum: come out, or stay inside and witness the slow torture of Tegan. The fifth Doctor knew what he had to do. But, the other Doctors also knew what they had to do. Or, so they thought. What ensued was pandemonium, as each one argued why it should be he who went out to face the bounty hunter.

What the bounty hunter had proposed, was that he would send the Doctor a one-time use emergency teleport disk. After the seventh Doctor put the speaker on mute, the Doctors gabbled away at each other furiously. Some Doctor's were debating why they should be allowed to negotiate with Rogerious. A few others were arguing for using the teleport for some other purpose. They all were instantly shushed by a loud wolf whistle from Donna.

"Oy! Pipe down, you lot! I have something to say." She shouted.

Every Doctor and other companion in the room turned to stare at Donna. On their faces was either surprise, annoyance or amusement.

"Maybe I'm getting this wrong, but this Roger bloke seems to think that he"—Donna pointed at the fifth Doctor—"is the only one in the TARDIS. Wouldn't it complicate things if he knew you were all here together?"

"Oooh, score another point for Donna. That's my girl." The tenth Doctor chortled.

"_Your _girl? I used to hate it when one of my boyfriends said that. Since when are we an item?" Donna said, folding her arms and tilting her head at him skeptically.

"We're not an item. We're a team." He told her.

"Nice save, spaceman." She replied with good humor. "But I still think blondie over there should be the one to go."

"Yes. Very good, Donna. Quite true!" The fifth Doctor smiled gratefully at her. "Apparently this Rogerious has no idea that we're here. Though how he managed to track down a TARDIS is something else altogether. Anyway," He added more somberly, "Tegan is my responsibility. She wouldn't be out there if it weren't for me."

"Ah-hem." The forth Doctor cleared his throat, giving the fifth Doctor a sideways glance. "Or me, you know."

"Of course." He nodded, shooting the forth Doctor a friendly smile of acknowledgement. "How could I forget?" Returning to the more serious issue at hand, he continued, "However, I should point out that it was _me_ this Rogerious saw Tegan with." he reminded them all. "And I think Donna is quite correct. If some other version of myself goes out there, it would definitely complicate matters. Putting more than just Tegan and myself in danger."

"We don't even know what this bounty hunter wants, yet." Amy said, trying to include herself in the discussion. "I mean, other than killing you for some sort of reward. Maybe he'd also like to get his hands on the TARDIS."

"That's rather worrying thought." The third Doctor nodded.

"We'll have to play this game very carefully, I should think." The sixth Doctor said to the others.

"I love a good game." The tenth Doctor said cheekily. "Tennis, anyone?"

"It'll be a game hare and hounds, if you ask me." Chipped in the ninth Doctor.

"And I was thinking of chess." The second Doctor added.

"More like a game of tiddlywinks, the way you all are carrying on." The first Doctor snorted.

"I wish you'd let me go with you." Jack told the fifth Doctor. "I could pose as another of your companions. I've never faced a kill-bot, but after dealing with the devil's brother, everything else is a cakewalk." He gave the ninth Doctor a significant look, before turning again to the fifth Doctor. "Besides, it's not like that thing could cause me any permanent damage."

"Wouldn't fighting them put Tegan in even greater danger?" A concerned Sarah Jane spoke out.

"Thank you for the offer, Jack." The fifth Doctor said, not unkindly, "But Sarah is right. I must do this alone."

"Do you have any idea what sort of demands this Rogerious is going to make?" The third Doctor asked the fifth.

Taking a deep breath, the fifth Doctor raised an eyebrow and replied, "Judging by his actions so far, I'd say his demands will fall somewhere between the absolutely absurd and the certifiably insane."

"Just your typical psychopathic nutjob out there." The tenth Doctor shrugged. "Should be a piece of cake."

"Oh, yes!" The second Doctor agreed. "All in day's work for us. Eh, Doctors?"

"I don't see how any of you could expect to reason with an irrational person. It'd be like trying to ask a monkey to understand astrophysics." The first Doctor said, shaking his head doubtfully. He was the one who had proposed hijacking the emergency teleport, instead of negotiating with Rogerious.

"It's not the psycho bounty hunter he has to worry about, so much as that kill-bot." The sixth Doctor pointed out.

"As far as I'm concerned, it's decided. I'm going. Alone." The fifth Doctor said with finality. Pausing, he abruptly sighed with regret, admitting, "You know, it's times like this that I really miss my sonic screwdriver."

At once, the third, forth, eighth, ninth and tenth Doctor's all held out their sonics to him, like men proffering cigarette lighters to a fellow smoker.

"Yours is bigger than mine." A surprised eighth Doctor said to the ninth Doctor, who immediately grinned with satisfaction.

"And yours is larger than mine." The forth Doctor frowned at the tenth Doctor. "I can see my older selves seem to have a bit of an insecurity issue."

"What! I do not...!" The tenth Doctor sputtered. "There's nothing wrong with that. Bigger is better. As any American would tell you."

"Hell, yeah. That's what I always say." Jack said, his voice dripping with innuendo, his eyes lingering a little too long over a certain area of the Doctor's trousers. Not that the Doctor even noticed.

"Now see here, all of you. Size isn't everything, you know. It's how you use it that counts." A rather miffed third Doctor told them.

"I can't tell you how many times I've heard that old line." Jack chuckled.

"Shut up, Jack!" The ninth and tenth Doctor shouted at him crossly.

"Shhhh—!" The seventh Doctor said to them all, pointing at the console speaker.

The fifth Doctor accepted the tenth Doctor's sonic with a silent nod of thanks. Holding his fingers to his lips, the seventh Doctor leaned over and flipped the mute switch off. Like some radio engineer he pointed his finger, looking directly at the fifth Doctor, indicating that he should speak.

"Hello? Are you still there?" The fifth Doctor said loudly, and he came to stand beside the control console.

"Have you made up your mind, Doctor?" The dog-man's voice snarled.

"Erm—yes. I would find it acceptable for you to send me that teleport disk. I'm releasing the coordinates to you...now."

A few seconds later, a large round crimson-coloured pad slowly materialized in a blaze of light, in an empty corner of the crowded console room. The Doctor walked over and stood on top of it.

"Right. Here we go." The fifth Doctor whispered, smiling nervously and holding up two crossed fingers, "Wish me luck."

"What did you say?" Rogerious' voice demanded harshly.

The fifth Doctor had momentarily forgotten that canenoids had exceptional hearing. Wincing, he ad-libbed, "Ah, nothing. I just said, I hope I won't have to duck."

"Oh. I thought you were swearing at me. Do not worry, Time Lord. I will not shoot you. You are worth much more to me alive." The bounty hunter responded.

"Well, that's very reassuring." The fifth Doctor said with more bravado than he actually felt, as his body's molecules slowly dissolved into the light.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Rory stared disbelievingly at the ruined time rotor on the TARDIS console. As his chest heaved with his sudden feeling of helplessness, Rory thought about how very far away he was from Amy. He wondered if she was alright, if he'd ever see her again. And wishing he'd said he'd loved her, the last time they'd been together. He tried to remember their last conversation before she'd been taken from him.

'_I feel like a curry. Let's do some takeaway_.' Rory had told her.

'_The whole universe to dine in, anywhere in space and time,_' she'd answered, '_and you want to go for a curry?_' She paused, turned and asked the Doctor, '_Is there a Nando's in outer space?_'

'_Nando's doesn't do curry_.' Rory shook his head negatively, frowning at her. '_I'm famished. And I could really go for some tandoori chicken, right now.'_

'_OK_, s_o it's not a curry joint. They do a nice piri piri chicken._ _It's all spicy food. What's the difference?' _She said to him.

_'It's not at all similar, Amy.' _ Rory asserted. '_One's from India, the other's Portuguese. That's like comparing southern fried chicken to kung pao chicken. They're a completely different sort of cuisine. Not to mention geography. India's here. _He pointed outward with his right finger. _'And Portugal is over here.' _He pointed his left finger quite a ways away from his right finger. '_I could show them to you on a map, if you don't believe me.' _

_'Who cares, Rory? Chicken is chicken...and they have roasted potatoes. Oooh, gorgeous!_' Amy went on, conveniently deaf to Rory's objections. '_I wonder, Doctor. Do you think Nando's have a seating area in their restaurant big enough for a TARDIS?'_ she asked.

That's when the Doctor, not wanting to play the part of marital referee, suggested they all whet their appetite with some space surfing before tea time.

Rory sighed, feeling guilt wash over him. The love of his live was gone, literally snatched away from him. And the last thing he'd said to her was that she didn't know her geography? Such a stupid, trivial conversation. Why couldn't his last words have been, "_I love you._?" He sighed again, feeling a tear slowly roll down his cheek.

As the his eyesight slowly returned, the Doctor blinked the blurriness from his eyes. He too, gazed disconsolately at the destruction wrought upon the time rotor.

"Oh, you poor thing. What has the bad, bad vortex collision done to you?" The Doctor asked his ship sadly, as he walked unsteadily to stand beside Rory.

The Doctor's hand gently stroked the side of the console, as if he were comforting a sick pet. He did feel as if his hearts were breaking. For him, it was much like visiting a terminally ill family member in hospital.

"Is it...I mean, is she gone?" Rory softly asked , though he was half afraid of the answer. "Are we stuck here, Doctor?"

"I don't know, Rory." The Doctor said simply, darkly. Bracing his hands against the console he hung his head. Staring downwards. Though his sight had returned, his mind saw saw nothing.

The truth was, he really didn't want to know if she was gone. Not yet, anyway. He'd lost so much. The Doctor wasn't sure how much more loss he could bear, before he finally succumbed to the grief and loneliness. Already, there were days when the emotional drag tried its best to pull down him into the barren depths of...of...the feeling was so huge and awful, there wasn't even a proper word for it. That's why the Doctor felt the urge to keep moving, to stay busy. It wasn't purely for the sake of his own curiosity, any longer. Nor his rebelliousness against the detached, elitist Gallifreyan political institution. Though still adventuring for the thrill of discovery, he was also running away from himself, now. From his own inner demons.

Even the very thought of the loss of something as near and dear to his hearts as the TARDIS, punched a icy, black hole into the Doctor. It was the last thing he had of home. The one, single thing he had that was worth holding on to in his exile. His ship was a part of himself, a part of who he was. It was his emotional anchor to his past, his present, and hopefully, his future. This magical, sexy ship was one place in the universe where he knew he still belonged. Which is why the Doctor suddenly wondered why he was giving up on her so easily.

"Spacial drive!" He shouted abruptly, jerking his head erect with the manic gleam returning to his eyes.

"The what?" A startled Rory asked, hardly daring to feel a slender thread of hope.

"The spacial drive is connected directly to the main command nodes of the TARDIS."

"And?" Rory shrugged, having no idea what the Doctor was on about, as usual.

"Not 'and', Rory. More like 'if'. The Doctor explained, wiggling about and flapping his arms around like a hyperactive schoolboy. "_If_ I can get the spacial drive up and running, _if_ I can loop its sub-particle interface back around into the chononucleic vacuum chamber, and_ if_ that works, use the extra power boost to jump-start the TARDIS' self-repair module..."

"We can maybe get out of here and go rescue Amy?" Rory asked with more optimism than he actually felt.

"Precisely!" The Doctor's finger shot up to emphasize his point. Then he drew the finger towards him, frowning. "That's strange."

"What is?" Rory leaned in close to see what the Doctor was staring at.

"I've a bit of a callous there. Never noticed that before. Wonder where that came from?"

"Getting back on topic, Doctor?" Rory suggested pointedly.

"Yes, well. You see Rory, I have a few ideas." The Doctor said hesitantly.

Rory thought the Doctor looked rather shifty, all of the sudden.

"Alright, Doctor. Whatever your plan is, I'll go along with it. I mean," he shrugged, "it's not as if I have a choice."

"Oh, good. Because you see, er—Rory, some of the things we both need to do, may seem rather erm—_strange_ to you." He responded worriedly, with an almost comical look of hopeful expectation on his face.

"In other words, Doctor." Rory said, tilting his head and rolling his eyes at the Doctor. "Business as usual. Yeah. I'm hip to that."

His words were rewarded by a huge, happy grin on the Doctor's face, as he gleefully produced his sonic screwdriver. "Mr. Pond, I don't know if I've told you this lately, but you are one far-out and groovy kind of guy."

"Actually," Rory replied blandly, "I don't think anyone's ever told me that."

"Stop blabbing and come and help me, Rory." The Doctor said brusquely, as he ducked under the TARDIS console. "We've work to do. This is hardly the time for idle chit-chat."

Sighing in resignation at one the Doctor's sudden mood changes, Rory crouched down beside the Doctor to await his instructions.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

The fifth Doctor's atoms coalesced in a beam of white light. As his body once again took on solidity, he checked out his surroundings. He was curious, and just a little apprehensive. It took the Doctor but a fraction of a second to adjust his eyes from the bright TARDIS interior to the ebony shadows and sapphire moonlight of the quarry. A stiff, chill breeze ruffled the Doctor's neatly combed blond hair, and sent the ends of his cricketing jacket flapping. Yet, he hadn't noticed. Though his face revealed nothing, the Doctor was gravely concerned for Tegan.

Still within his sight, the TARDIS loomed in the background, the moonlight gleaming against those less worn spots of its aging paint. Unfortunately, it was not quite close enough for him to make a run for it. And even if he could, the Doctor silently reasoned, with that chain and deadlock on the door, there was little point in even trying. At least, not for the moment.

"It's taken me five years to track you down, Time Lord." Came a surprisingly cultured, if roughened, voice from behind him. "And ten years before that, I was trapped inside a Storm Cage. Thanks to you. When I finally escaped, I thought of nothing but revenge. Then a certain party, a fellow enemy of yours, offered me an indecently generous sum for your capture. And a marginally lower amount if I brought back only your head. Well, how could I not say yes to such a wonderful employment opportunity?"

"How, indeed?" The Doctor said genially.

Making no sudden moves, he slowly turned and faced Rogerious. The Doctor squinted, trying to make out the features of the dog-man, dressed in his black helmet and matching battle fatigues. Rogerious was standing in the shadow of the cliff face. Mostly all the Doctor could see was the dull metallic gleam of his helmet—and what appeared to be a long barrel of a blaster rifle, which was probably pointing at him. The bounty hunter's face was obscured by shadow, but the Doctor marked the puffs of white fog as his hot breath met the cold air.

"It wasn't until I stole a special device from a Dalek. An experimental bit of technology, which enabled me to monitor the Space-Time vortex."

Then I'd say you have much bigger problems than capturing me." The Doctor told him seriously. "I doubt the Daleks will take that sort of thing lying down."

"Raagh!" Rogerious gave a sharp bark-like laugh. "The gods were on my side this time, Doctor. That Dalek never knew what hit it. And they will think the device was lost along with everything else, when the Dalek saucer exploded."

"Ah. I see." The Doctor nodded sagely. Then stated firmly, "Now that that's settled, perhaps you can let me see Tegan. I won't go along with any more of your requests, until I know for certain that she is unharmed."

"I am afraid not, Doctor. You will see your friend soon, never fear. But Tegan shall remain in my grasp until you do as I tell you."

Giving a long, patient sigh, the Doctor replied, "Very well. Then it seems we have a bit of a stalemate. Because I won't do another thing until I know she is safe."

"On the contrary, I have something which may well change your attitude, Time Lord." Rogerious sneered.

"And what could possibly make me change my mind?" The Doctor asked skeptically, digging his hands in his pockets.

"Look up, Doctor. The cliff edge."

The Doctor squinted beyond Rogerious to the top of the cliff. There was a shape there. A looming hulk beyond the row of low, neatly spaced rocks which formed a sort of crude safety barrier.

The bounty hunter pressed a button on his utility belt. Without warning, the cliff face was lit up like Times Square on New Year's Eve. High powered utility lights illuminated a scene with made the Doctor gasp with dismay. The chill he abruptly felt was not entirely from the outside temperature.

"No! You wouldn't dare!" He protested.

"I would. And I will. If you do not do as I say." Rogerious answered ominously.

Inside the TARDIS, nine Doctors and four companions stood by helplessly, watching the two distant figures on the monitor. Suddenly, the Doctors all began talking again. Each discussing to one of the others what their next move should be.

Watching them, the first Doctor shut his mouth and frowned deeply. This was getting them nowhere. Taking up the brass-headed walking cane he'd brought with him, the first Doctor rapped it hard on the floor three times. Doctors and companions alike turned to him.

"Will you all be quiet?" Shouted the first Doctor. "I can't hear myself think!"

"My dear fellow. How are we to work out a plan if we can't speak?" The third Doctor said patronizingly, "What _are_ we supposed to do? Waggle our eyebrows at each other, like the Delfon's do?"

"Oooh, I remember them." The tenth Doctor nodded. "Nearly ended up in gaol, one time. They mistakenly thought I was soliciting something very er—personal. Bit of a translation issue. Never go to Delfon after you've just singed off your eyebrows."

"I was hoping I'd forget all about that." The ninth Doctor rolled his eyes at the tenth and then said to Jack, "Took me forever to talk my way out of that one. I was shopping at a market stall. Decided I wanted to buy Rose a pretty clasp. Turns out, the woman thought I was trying to sell her my ar—"

"As I was saying, gentlemen." The first Doctor interrupted, "We need to be silent and simply observe, at this juncture. You can learn a lot I feel," He said, arching his eyebrows at his older selves, and adding dryly, "by taking note of other peoples gestures, their behavior."

"Oh yeah? You'd love the tube during rush hour, mate." Donna said. She gave Amy a cheeky wink, "I've given people a few gestures in my time." Despite the situation she was in, Amy smiled. She really liked Donna.

The seventh Doctor shook his head, saying, "That reminds me. Ace used to used to do some very odd things. I still have no idea what the significance of an erect middle finger means."

"Yes." The forth Doctor nodded wisely. "Body language. It can be quite useful, at times."

Sarah glanced over at Donna and Amy. The three girls suddenly couldn't help themselves. They burst out in a fit of giggles. The Doctors all shot them puzzled looks.

"Right now I'd say that body up there is giving off a message, loud and clear." Jack said, pointing at the view screen on the wall.

The thirteen occupants of the TARDIS turned as one to the view on the wall screen. They all watched mutely, as the cliff above the two figures outside was suddenly illuminated with an almost daylight brilliance. Standing near the edge of the cliff was the formidable figure of the kill-bot. Its enormous hand—the one without the weapon attached, was holding something over the cliff. A distant, struggling figure attached by the waist to a long chain which dangled, swaying slightly, in the kill-bot's clenched fist.

None of those inside the TARDIS had to guess who that might be. They knew already. It was Tegan.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Not being able to help herself, Tegan screamed as she dangled over the cliff. The chain bound to her waist by a heavy band of titanium steel, cut into her sharply. Closing her eyes to ward off her growing fear, she cried out for help she knew probably wouldn't come. Tegan—hardly for the first time, loudly cursed the kill-bot, and stated that she wished she'd never stepped foot in the TARDIS.

"That's Tegan, alright." The fifth Doctor said softly, "I'd know that voice anywhere." Feeling horrified and helpless, he watched the scene playing out above his head.

"You have but one thing to do, Time Lord. Obey me. Only then shall Tegan be freed." The man-dog told him, his cultured voice dripping with suave persuasion. "And if you do not do so within the next five minutes, I shall instruct the kill-bot to open its fist. It is ironic, is it not? For Tegan's fate also lies within your grasp. You have but to speak yes or no, to seal her fate."

Whirling suddenly about, the Doctor angrily eyed Rogerious. His chest heaved as he felt his hearts beating double time. "Alright! Yes! Don't hurt her. You win. I'll do whatever you ask. Just...get Tegan away from that...thing." He growled at the bounty hunter.

That I shall, Doctor. Rest assured. But first," he sneered, "you will hand over the key to your TARDIS." Rogerious demanded pompously, holding out his furry hand.

"What!" The Doctor boggled. Heso taken aback by this new demand, he momentarily forgot about Tegan. Frowning deeply, he said, "That was not part of the deal. You have me. What do you want my ship for?"

"Have you any idea how much a TARDIS would fetch on the black market?" Rogerious barked a sharp laugh, "And of course, there is the personal satisfaction I will gain in taking away from you, that which you value the most."

Another scream for help from Tegan drew the Doctor's attention back to the matter at hand. He quickly shot anxious glances from Tegan to the TARDIS, back to Tegan again. Rogerious reminded him that his five minutes were nearly gone. Slowly, the Doctor moved his hand towards his trouser pocket.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

"Don't do it!" The first Doctor yelled from inside the TARDIS, waving his cane about. He watched the fifth Doctor's hand slowly reach into his pocket. "Don't you do it my boy!"

"He hasn't much choice, I suspect." The eighth Doctor observed gravely, staring at the screen on the wall. "It's Tegan's life or the TARDIS."

"Hmm—yes," the second Doctor nodded. "talk about making a bargain with the devil."

"I always knew I might lose the TARDIS, someday." The sixth Doctor commented, heaving a melodramatic sigh. "Only I thought I'd be retired by then. Someplace sunny and tropical. No Cybermen, no Myloki, no Great Carnivorous Maw. Just me, a beach and a good book."

"Sounds like my worst nightmare." The eighth Doctor shuddered, "Bleurgh!"

"We can always procure another TARDIS, somehow." The third Doctor said to him. "But we certainly can't replace that young lady there."

"Speak for yourself." The tenth Doctor sniffed at the third' Doctor's remark. "My TARDIS is one of a kind."

"Yeah." The ninth Doctor agreed moodily. "And I don't fancy hanging around a Welsh quarry for the next fifty years, trying to grow another one."

"Oy!" Shouted Donna.

The Doctor's heads turned from the wall screen to her.

"Remember us?" She asked, gesturing with her hand to include herself, Amy, Sarah Jane and Captain Jack. "We're not just part of the décor, you know. How 'bout cluing us in on what's going on?"

"Donna." The tenth Doctor spoke to her in a soft, warning voice. "Not now."

"Yes, now." She insisted indignantly, "Tegan is one of us _humans_," she pointed to herself, "In case you've forgotten that. And as such, I think we've a right to know what's happening out there."

"Quite right, Donna." The third Doctor agreed. "We've been observing their body language. And I'd say our counterpart out there has just been given an ultimatum."

"You see, we've deduced that the chap with the kill-bot doesn't just want me...er—us, he wants the TARDIS, as well." The second Doctor explained to Donna, smiling like a kindly professor attempting to enlighten a particularly dim student.

"Greedy little chap, isn't he?" The forth Doctor said.

"At least he doesn't dream small." The tenth Doctor added ironically, "He's not out robbing a pound shop. He's going for the whole enchilada. Putting all of time and space under the hammer to the highest bidder."

"All or nothing." The forth Doctor agreed.

"And I'm guessing the nothing means that he will kill Tegan if he doesn't get what he wants?" Jack concluded.

"How awful!" Sarah said to the forth Doctor. "Surely there must be _something _you can do?"

"How?" The sixth Doctor rounded on her. "How can we do anything, when we're trapped inside here, for all of eternity?

"He's right, Sarah. Even if he is being a bit of a drama queen."

"What!" the sixth Doctor exclaimed indignantly. "Are you calling me a..."

"True, we could go into flight." The forth Doctor ignored him, saying somberly, "But there's still no way to undo that lock and chain. We're stuck fast."

"Super-glued to the TARDIS." The tenth Doctor confirmed.

"Can't you contact someone?" Amy suggested. "Get them to come here and open the lock somehow?"

"And whom should we call on, young lady?" The first Doctor asked her. "I fear it would take more than just your ordinary locksmith to undo that lock."

"I guess that means there's no outer space auto club you can ring." Donna said, rolling her eyes. "All this super-alien brain power, and none of you can figure a way to get out of here?"

"Not to put too fine a point on things," the seventh Doctor interrupted quietly, nodding pointedly to the wall screen, "But right now I don't think that's our most pressing issue."

On the wall screen, the fifth Doctor had taken a few steps backward. His hand was slowly withdrawing the key from his pocket.

Rogerious spoke into his wrist com, sending orders to the kill-bot. "Step back. Unchain the girl. But keep her in sight."

With obvious regret, the fifth Doctor held out the oddly-shaped TARDIS key in his hand. It dangled from its chain, glinting silver in the moonlight. Faintly illuminated were its strange, triangular Galifreyan markings, as the key swung gently on the night air.

Eagerly, his dark eyes glinting with satisfaction, Rogerious' furry hand stretched out for it.

"At last!" Came his delighted murmur.

Suddenly, the Doctor's ears picked up a faintly familiar sound. Immediately realizing what it was, his face became incredulous. Out of the corner of his eye, he could still see the chain wrapped, deadlock bolted TARDIS of the seventh Doctor. He knew the other Doctor's were stuck inside, the remainder of them away from their own TARDIS'. So what was that...

Seemingly out of nowhere, a secondary wind kicked up a miniature cyclone of dust just behind Rogerious. Holding up his hands against the unexpected gale, the bounty hunter quickly drew back. As he did, the wheezing, grinding noise that had first caught the Doctor's attention swiftly grew as loud as a trumpeting elephant. Another TARDIS was slowly materializing before their astonished eyes.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Rogerious boggled at the newly arrived TARDIS. "What sort of trick is this?"

"It's no trick, I assure you. The cavalry has arrived, Rogerious." A secretly relieved fifth Doctor informed him.

The door creaked open, the coppery light from inside spilling its warmth over the cold, stony ground.

Smiling broadly, the Doctor gestured grandly towards the TARDIS, saying with a little air of smugness, "Now you'll see how a Time Lord deals with kidnappers and blackmailers."

And just as he'd said those words, out sprang the eleventh Doctor.

"Ta-da! _Hereee I am to save the daaay_!" He sang out, arms spread wide, a huge grin plastered on his face.

The fifth Doctor's smile quickly turned to a look of embarrassed consternation. After a moment of silence, he winced. "Oh no."

Recovering from his surprise, Rogerious barked out a laugh. "Oh, Doctor, I'm so scared!" He mocked in a cheeky falsetto voice, holding his hands to his face. "Whatever shall I do?"

The fifth Doctor gave an audible martyred sigh, eying the new arrival skeptically.

Standing in front of the TARDIS doors was the eleventh Doctor...dressed in a bunny suit. What's more, the costume's white faux fur had been badly singed. One ear was half burnt off. The other drooped pathetically. The Doctor's face was covered with soot and grime. Emerging from behind him was a tired, sweaty Rory, wearing his Roman centurion kit, complete with sword and helmet.

"Er-Hello?" Rory waved, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "Sorry to interrupt. But, have either of you seen my wife?"

"I didn't know Tegan was married." Rogerious smiled cruelly. "How fitting that you shall both die on the same day."

"What? Why would you want to kill us? What did we ever do to you?" Rory asked, a little taken aback by the bounty hunter's hostility.

"Should I ask why you are dressed like that?" The fifth Doctor said, unsure whether he actually wanted to hear the answer.

"I wear a bunny suit, now." The eleventh Doctor explained. "Bunny suits are...OK, maybe not terribly cool, but certainly very cozy and warm. In fact, I'm thinking of trading my in flannel pyjamas for one of these." He smiled, flapping a soot-blackened, fluffy white arm at the fifth Doctor.

"Tegan? Who the hell's Tegan?" A baffled Rory asked them. "I'm looking for Amy. Where is she?"

"Amy is stablized for the moment and resting comfortably." The fifth Doctor quickly reassured him, still giving his older self a strange look. "She's inside the other TARDIS."

That his explanation had been met with a raised eyebrow, only now seemed to occur to the eleventh Doctor. "Oh. Right. Why am I wearing this? It's very simple. Or, maybe not so simple. Depends on your point of view, I suppose. You see, the transdimensional stabilizer was thown out of sync with the multiphase delta drive, causing a negative microorganic chain reaction which eventually lead to catastrophic melt down of the time rotor, and so Rory and I had to..."

"Yes. Yes." The fifth Doctor said, his patience already beginning to wear thin, "Fine. Never mind all that. The other Doctors are stuck inside that TARDIS over there. We need you to..."

Before the fifth Doctor could answer, Rogerious flattened his ears and let out a deep-throated, menacing growl. Turning abrputly on his heels he walked away from the two Doctor's and Rory, striding over to the base of the nearby cliff. Casting an angry glance over his shoulder at the Doctor, Rogerious spoke into his com unit.

"No more games, Doctor. Kill-bot. Attention! Here are your orders." He spoke sharply, his voice sounding slightly deranged.

For a brief moment, the bounty hunter was ridgidly immobile, craning his head up at the robot who had come to the cliff-edge. The deadly robot stood there looking down upon Rogerious, its head tilted slightly, as if listening to its master's voice.

"No, wait!" A horror-struck fifth Doctor called out.

However, Rogerious was no longer in a frame of mind to listen. Overwhelmed with boiling rage, white foam flecked from his lips as he savagely screamed, "I order you to kill the girl! Now! Do it now!"


	29. Chapter 29

Note from author:_ Apologies for the long wait for the next chapter. Sometimes everyday chores and other commitments leave little time for me to pursue my hobby. Good news, though. Supermarket trips are done for the month, and I've a few days on my own before I'm off doing my bit to support American public radio. Meaning I've had some time in the past day or two, to work on this story. Many thanks to my readers for your patience. NBG_

Chapter 29

Standing at the edge of the cliff, the kill-bot looked down upon Rogerious. The huge robot bowed its weighty head, accepting the order to terminate its hostage. However, Tegan already had her suspicions about her fate. And she didn't hesitate to act upon them. As the robot had turned to stare down at its master, Tegan made a mad dash for a pile of rocks behind her.

There was only one thought on the fifth Doctor's mind: saving Tegan. He advanced angrily on Rogerious, palming the tenth Doctor's sonic screwdriver as he did so. The bounty hunter made a move for his side-arm. Unfortunately for him, the Doctor already had the sonic out. He stood cool and remote, pointing it upwards.

The bright white orb of the moon thew the kill-bot's satiny black shadow down upon the Doctor and Rogerious. It stood out clearly in relief upon the ground, against the moon's blue-tinted light. The Doctor pressed a button on the device. Rogerious had his pistol out and was aiming for the Doctor's hearts, when he heard a loud buzz resonating upon the sharp night air. Somehow, it reminded him of an angry wasp trapped inside a glass jar.

In the act of turning aside in pursuit of Tegan, the kill-bot abruptly halted. It stared down at itself and tilted its head, as if puzzled by something it couldn't comprehend. Then its legs began to vibrate. Tiny oscillations shivered through the robot's body, as gentle as the touch of a feather.

Yet quicker than the eye could blink, those vibrations grew stronger. The thing's knobby metallic knee joints slowly began to wobble. The whole of the machine was now vibrating so badly that it made the earth beneath it tremble. A resonant rumble came from its caterpillar tracks, causing tiny fissures in the earth which spread along the ground, a catalyst which then lead to a slow crumbling away of the cliff's edge.

It was the sudden cascading dribble of stones which caused the bounty hunter's finger to pause on the trigger. Rogerious turned just in time to see the kill-bot shift forward, tilting precariously over the edge of the cliff. Helped along by Tegan, as it happened. She'd found a board lying on the floor of the quarry, and was using it to help speed the kill-bot's impending decent to the bottom.

The bounty hunter's head whipped backwards, his eyes shooting a questioning glance at the fifth Doctor, before a noise from above caused Rogerious to look up once more at the robot. Which was, by then, careening towards him.

Rogerious stood wide-eyed in disbelief. He had only time to utter one brief, incredulous "_Woof!_" before he was crushed beneath his own weapon of mass destruction.

Coughing and brushing away the cloud of debris caused by the robot's fall, the Doctor anxiously surveyed the cliff. He sighed with relief as her saw Tegan waving to him from above, apparently unharmed.

"Doctor!" She shouted.

"Are you alright, Tegan?" He called up to her.

"I'm fine. Now which way do I go to hitchhike back to London?"

Shaking his head, the Doctor smiled, certain now that Tegan was indeed perfectly fine. He wondered absently if any of the other Doctor's had a pair of ear plugs. He had a feeling he was never going to hear the end of this. Sighing again, he stared bleakly at the clear night sky. Maybe he should make a detour to Heathrow.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Inside the seventh Doctor's TARDIS, he and the other nine Doctor's were already busy getting back to work. Donna and Sarah Jane were hovering over Amy, who had once again lost consciousness. She was pale and sweating, and her breathing had become rapid and shallow.

"Doctor's." Donna said seriously as she gently stroked Amy's hair. "I'd say if you lot plan on saving Amy, you'd better hop to it. Or you're gonna' end up losing her."

"Only when you think you'll lose, will all be lost." The third Doctor replied kindly, giving her a reassuring smile as he worked on wiring up a piece of the console. "And we haven't lost her yet, Donna. So let's all keep thinking positive, alright?"

Shaking her head, Donna muttered, "Oh, spare me!" under her breath.

She turned back to looking after Amy, deep concern reflecting in her eyes. Inside her head, Donna silently swore at the third Doctor. God, she hated being patronized! Especially by some super-clever male alien. What got to her, was that she _hadn't_ stopped believing that Amy would be cured, somehow. Donna was merely worried that the Doctor's had gotten too distracted. She knew from her experiences with _her_ Doctor, that even a Time Lord needed a bit of nagging, sometimes.

"Amy is going downhill rather quickly." Sarah Jane sighed, feeling almost helpless as she used the second Doctor's stethoscope to check on the sick girl's breathing. She turned to face the Doctor's, pleading, "I think she's dying. Please. Can't you do _something_?"

"Working on it, ladies!" The tenth Doctor responded curtly, as he dashed into the TARDIS interior. "Nag, nag, nag." He grumbled crossly.

A few moments later he ran back into the control room, his trainers skidding on the floor as he came to a halt beside the console. His hands clutched a heap of small components to his chest. Dumping the objects on top of one of the control panels, he whirled around as the noise of a TARDIS re-materialization began to fill the room.

"Everybody back!" Yelled the forth Doctor.

"It's another TARDIS!" Jack said incredulously.

"Yeah. We sort of noticed that, Jack." The ninth Doctor told him dryly.

"You humans do have a genius for always stating the obvious." The sixth Doctor commented.

"Speak for yourself, alien boy." Donna retorted.

"But...which Doctor could it be?" The eighth Doctor asked with a concerned frown.

"As long as isn't a_ witch_ doctor, who cares?" The sixth Doctor answered. "Help is on the way. That's all that really matters, isn't it?

"Hmmm—Yes. That might be a problem though, if it's one of us in here." The seventh Doctor pondered. "Bad enough that we're all together in one place. But two of the same us? I shudder to think what that would do to the space-time continuum."

"Oh my! I hope whichever one of us he is, he has a working humanoid proximiter alarm on his TARDIS." Said the second Doctor worriedly.

"There's a thought. Maybe we should all stand a bit further back?" The third Doctor suggested.

"The HP alarm on my TARDIS hasn't worked in ages." The tenth Doctor admitted.

"I say! Isn't that dangerous?" The first Doctor asked, looking askance at the tenth. "You might injure somebody important."

"Meh," the tenth Doctor shrugged, "I prefer the fly by the seat of my pants approach. More fun that way."

His face grew puzzled as he noticed Captain Jack staring at his bottom. His head swiveled awkwardly, trying to see what was wrong. "What? What is it? Did I rip my trousers again?"

"Er—just checking the seat of your pants, Doctor." Jack said, giving the tenth Doctor a cheeky look and winking at him. "Very nice! Like two perfectly ripe..."

"Arrgh! Not now, Jack!" The tenth Doctor hissed through gritted teeth, rolling his eyes at the ceiling.

"Later, then?" he asked suggestively.

"Jack! I'm trying to work." The tenth Doctor warned, as a component he was fitting together slipped from his fingers. "Stop it."

As he stooped to the floor to retreive the dropped part, the tenth Doctor made certain his bottom was facing away from Jack, this time.

"Would you two like a room of your own?" The forth Doctor asked the tenth Doctor, grinning. All he got in return was a sour look. He raised an eyebrow. "Or maybe a marriage counsellor?"

As he straightened, the tenth Doctor mumbled, "Be careful that incoming TARDIS doesn't land on your foot." Slipping on his glasses he concentrated on his work, in order to stem the flow of that particular course of conversation.

"You know, I'd have to admit that it would be more than a little embarrassing, being crushed to death by your own TARDIS." The seventh Doctor nodded, as he watched the new TARDIS slowly materialize inside the control room.

"Whichever one of you it is, I hope he can help." Sarah told them.

"Donna, Sarah, watch out for Amy!" The tenth Doctor instructed, realizing suddenly that there might be a danger to the three of them, as they couldn't easily move the sick girl. "Make sure you've got enough clearance."

"Keep alert, everyone!" The ninth Doctor told them, as a stiff breeze suddenly blew at their hair and clothing.

The noise increased as the new TARDIS began slowly to appear in phases. It was landing on the other side of the control room.

"We've got incoming!" Jack yelled.

"You like saying that, don't you?" The ninth Doctor lightly teased him.

"Now stop this nonsense, all of you! We should be working on saving that young lady. This isn't a fairground side show! Rassilon knows we've all seen a TARDIS re-materialize before." The first Doctor scolded his other selves, waving his silver-tipped black walking stick in the air.

"At least help has arrived." The tenth Doctor said, glancing up from his work expectantly, as the other TARDIS took up space in one corner of the control room. "And if it's my future self, I'd love to see what sort of suit I've got. I look splendid in a suit, if I do say so mysel..."

The tenth Doctor never finished his sentence, as out the door popped the eleventh Doctor in his singed bunny suit, with Rory following behind, still in his Centurian kit. Slipping off his glasses, the tenth Doctor squinted at the eleventh in consternation. In fact, everyone in the room wore virtually the same expression.

"Oh." He said, raising both eyebrows. "Riiiight. Let me guess. Couldn't find a decent tailor?"

"You should talk!" The eleventh Doctor flinging back a reposte, "What about that time you mooned Rush Limbaugh in your jim-jam's?"

"Nice legs, Centurion." Jack said, giving a wolf whistle. "My place or yours, tonight?"

"Look. I can explain..." Rory began, his face colouring with embarasment. Then he sighed and shook his head in defeat. "No. Actually, I can't." He turned to the Doctor beside him. "You can explain."

"Me?" The eleventh Doctor protested, "Why me?"

"Your bunny suit. Your TARDIS. Your rules." Rory said succinctly.

"Well, you see, it all had to do with an anomoly in the vortex manipulator..." The eleventh Doctor began.

"Ah, I understand now. You had to resort to abstract technology. That's always amusing." The seventh Doctor realized.

"Yes!" The eleventh Doctor acknowledged, rubbing his hands together, his eyes twinkling in merriment. He paused, reflecting, "Though it's odd that my companions never seem to feel that way."

The forth Doctor beamed "So you used The Fancy Dress Solution! One of my favourites!"

"Yeah, that's fun. Last time I wore a giant con...erm—never mind." The tenth Doctor said, tugging on his ear. "Let's just say it's a good thing I landed in France."

"Fun for you, maybe." Donna snorted. She looked at Sarah Jane. "He had me dress as a carrot. Because I was ginger."

"And you really are never going to forgive me for that, are you?" The tenth Doctor said under his breath.

"You think that's bad? I had to be a bottle of HP sauce." Sarah Jane told her.

"Oh my God! Amy!"

Remembering why he was there, Rory, searching for Amy, spied her lying on the beach chair. He ran over to her, kneeling by her side. He didn't need any medical equipment to know his wife was in a bad way. Rory sprang upright. His face stormy, he pointed an accusing finger at the Doctors.

"What are you all doing? Why aren't you helping her?" He shouted, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Relax, Rory." The eleventh Doctor said gently, putting a hand on his arm. "We'll make this right, trust me."

Brushing the Doctor's hand away, Rory suddenly drew his sword. He pointed at the eleventh Doctor's throat.

"Yes. You _will_ make this right, Doctor." He snarled, "Or else."


	31. Chapter 31

**APOLOGY**: On Saturday, 16th March I accidentally published a partially edited copy of chapter 31. It has since been removed and the corrected copy of chapter 31 was submitted on Monday, 18th March 2013. The changes were all fairly minor, readers weren't missing anything significant. NBG

Chapter 31

"Is that a sword in your hand, or are you just happy to see us?" Came a sarcastic female voice from behind Rory.

"Wha—?" He asked, startled, turning to see who was speaking.

"Look...whoever you are. All of us are only here because we're trying to save Amy. So why don't you stop waving your manhood about? If you really care about her, go and find something useful to do, yeah?" Donna told him angrily.

"Erm—OK." Rory said, gazing at the weapon in his hand, as if seeing it for the first time.

"And while you're at it gladiator boy, you might want to apologize to...whichever Doctor he is." Donna nodded her head towards the eleventh Doctor.

"I'm a Centurian, not a gladiator. Wait a sec." Rory said, as his penny dropped. Realizing what he'd just done, he said, What the? Oh! Oh. My. God. Uh...Yeah. Right. I'd better...do that." Blushing with sudden embarrassment, Rory sheathed his sword. "S-sorry, Doctor." He humbly apologized. Rory's version of the Doctor was still standing in front of his TARDIS door, now looking very relieved. "I...I...don't know what happened. I saw Amy lying there and just... lost it. You know I'd never-"

"Yes. I do know. That's why I let you travel with me, Rory."

The eleventh Doctor smiled kindly, coming forward and putting his arm around Rory's shoulder, giving him a companionable squeeze. The one intact bunny ear suddenly flopped over, covering his left eye. The Doctor tried to blow it away with his lips. Unsuccessfully. Sighing, he moved away and flipped it to one side. In the meantime Rory kept stammering, trying to apologize. The Doctor saw that his hands were shaking.

"It's fine. I understand, Rory." The eleventh Doctor quietly tried to reassure him, "No problemo. You 'went postal,' as the Americans say. It happens. Completely normal. Well...sort of normal. Well, maybe not an everyday kind of normal. More like a _'Quick! Get that man a straight-jacket and some Prozac!_' sort of normal. At least, that's normal for me. I've heard lots of male humans get that mid-life crisis thingy. Though...not usually until late middle age. You're starting a bit early, aren't you? Still, never mind. Time travel will do that to you. Anyway, enough chit-chat..." He stepped back and clapped his hands together, beaming with anticipation, "I'm here now. Let's go save Amy!"

"Who the hell is Amy?" Came a loud woman's voice from the doorway. She spoke with an Australian accent.

Everyone turned to look as Tegan came though the seventh Doctor's TARDIS door. The fifth Doctor was all smiles. Hands in pockets, he came strolling in behind her.

"You got it open!" The seventh Doctor beamed.

"How'd you manage that?" The eighth Doctor asked.

"Found the key to Rogerious' lock." The fifth Doctor explained as he went over to check the readings on the console. "I've disarmed the kill-bot, but we'll have to dispose it somehow."

"Yes, quite." The third Doctor agreed. "We certainly can't leave it here. Wouldn't do for the military to find it."

"Especially the Americans" The second Doctor said. "They'd start bossing everyone about. Telling them what to do. There'd be no end to it."

"Don't they already do that?" Sarah Jane asked dryly.

"Leave that to me, Doctor's. I'll make sure no one finds that thing until it can be carted away, and dumped into the nearest black hole." Jack said, brushing past Tegan and heading out of the door. "Hello!" he smiled at him as he went by.

"Jack!" The ninth Doctor scolded.

"I know. I know. No flirting." Throwing up his hands, Jack shook his head in mock disgust. He winked at Tegan. "Guess I'll see you later for cocktails in the companion lounge."

"And no, you can't have the kill-bot for Torchwood!" The tenth Doctor shouted after him.

"Do the words 'wet blanket' mean anything to you?" Jack shouted back as the door closed shut behind him.

"Wait a minute. This isn't your TARDIS." Tegan said to her version of the Doctor. "Where are we?"

"You're right, Tegan. This is a slightly later version of my ship." The fifth Doctor told her. "Two regenerations from now."

"Now you're just being ridiculous, Doctor." She said, thinking he was stitching her up.

"There you are, all gossiping like a clutch of old hens. Since when did time travel come with a tea break?" The first Doctor declared. "It's high time we got back to work!"

Sighing, the sixth Doctor muttered, "Good lord, I was an uptight old git when I was younger."

"Still are, if you ask me." Tegan muttered, as she gaped at the colourful costume of the sixth Doctor. Then, as if truly noticing the crowd for the first time, she gaped at the configuration of all of the Doctor's other selves. Staring, Tegan accidentally backed into the forth Doctor's back.

"Oh, I do beg your pardon." He said distractedly, as he sorted through a bundle of multicoloured wires.

"Doctor! It's you!" Tegan said, with startled surprise etched across her face.

"Sorry? Do I know you?" The forth Doctor asked. "I usually remember people I've met, except when I don't meet them in the right order."

"But...that's impossible." She shook her head in disbelief. "I saw you fa—"

"No, that's me _before_ you knew me." The fifth Doctor quickly interrupted, before she could make a time traveller's faux paux.

"Huh?" A thoroughly confused Tegan asked. "As usual, you're not making any sense, Doctor."

"It's all very simple really. These are my other selves, in previous and future regenerations." He explained patiently, with a wry smile. "We were summoned here to try and save the life of a future companion."

"No. Sorry. Still not getting it." Tegan shook her head in the negative. "How can all of you be here at the same time? Especially when some of you have already died, so to speak?"

"Look, Tegan. I'll explain everything later. I promise." The fifth Doctor patted her shoulder, steering her towards the entryway leading to the ship's interior. "Right now, I need you to give this sonic screwdriver to my other self—the skinny one in the suit working at the console."

"Skinny? What's wrong with being thin? Humans like thin people." The tenth Doctor said to no one in particular. "Well, they do now. Fat won't be all the rage for another four decades. Then everyone will ostracize me because I'm underweight. Can't win for losing."

"Alright, fine. Tegan, give that _average weight_ Doctor over there his sonic back, and then go and see if you can find a pint of milk and two lemons." The fifth Doctor instructed her.

"What do you need those for?" She questioned. "Oh, never mind. You'll tell me later, I suppose?"

"Yes! Now hurry along, there you go!" The fifth Doctor encouraged her.

Tegan's Doctor didn't really need those items. He just decided it would be easier to have Tegan out of the way for a while, to avoid any more awkward moments. He watched as Tegan gave the other Doctor his sonic back, then made her way out of the control room, in search of the TARDIS kitchen. The fifth Doctor sighed with relief, then went to work removing one of the glass roundels from the wall.

"Has anyone seen those Zeus plugs?" Shouted a harried tenth Doctor, as he slaved over a bit of exposed circuitry on the TARDIS console.

"Here you are." Said the third Doctor genially, placing the Zeus plugs on the console. He leaned over the other Doctor's shoulder, observing his work. "I say! That's making a bit of a hash of things. It might work better if you were to try reversing the polarity of the neutron flow."

Slowly, the tenth Doctor turned his head. Raising an eyebrow, he glared. "You just _had_ to say that, didn't you?"

"My dear chap. I'm sure I have no idea what you mean." A slightly miffed third Doctor answered him. "I was only trying to be helpful."

"Right!" Shouted an excited eleventh Doctor suddenly, from inside his TARDIS. He ran back out the door carrying a long cable. It was pulsing with orange light. "I think this should about do it. We can hook this up to your ship—" He nodded to the seventh Doctor, "and yowza! Everything hunky dory again."

"_Yowza_?" The seventh Doctor asked himself. "When did I start saying 'yowza'?"

"Never mind that." The ninth Doctor snorted, as he connected a final wire from the wall to the console, "When did I think saying '_hunky-dory' _was a good idea?"

Working quickly now, the eleventh Doctor connected his ship to the other TARDIS' console. Meanwhile, the other ten Doctor's also began hooking up various places of the seventh Doctor's TARDIS control room with the console. Wires were strewn all about, some ordinary looking, others lit up in varying colours. All of them making the white, mulit-tiered console suddenly seem like a cross between a Christmas tree and a street utility pole.

As they each set about their tasks, the Doctor's had to dodge each other and the equipment, making it seem to a bemused Sarah Jane, like they were dancing some alien ballet.

"What happens if you trip over one of those wires?" She asked the forth Doctor, as he bustled by her holding up yet another wire—this one purple and green.

"Oh, nothing much. Just the end of the universe as we know it, after the vortex collapses and takes the rest of creation with it." He said cheerfully, as he connected the wire to the underside of the console. He paused, beaming a smile at her. "Or at least that's the theory, as I understand it."

"Oh. I see. Well, don't trip then." She advised cheekily.

"I'll try not to, Sarah." He said somber tone, yet with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"That just about does it, I think." The tenth Doctor announced, as he plugged a final connection into the console.

"Now what?" Donna called over to her Doctor, dubiously eying the plethora of wires. "Are we gonna' tune in Radio Free Mars or something?"

"Oooh, that's an idea!" The eleventh Doctor chortled, practically writhing with excitement. "I'm dying to hear the results of the man united match."

"And I wouldn't mind finding out what happened on Emerdale Farm." The eighth Doctor said, "Lost reception last week, twhilst travelling though the Haslog Asteroid Belt. All I could hear were sheep and static."

"Pardon me for interrupting, but a little focus here would be helpful!" The fifth Doctor announced.

"That lot have the attention span of a Sun subscriber." Rory said as he held Amy in his arms.

"Excuse me, mate? I get the Sun." Donna said to him.

"Bet you loved that story about the royal family being werewolves. " The tenth Doctor said, as he stood up and stared balefully at the console.

"What? You mean that was true?" She asked, surprised.

"Not now, Donna!" He replied, conveniently ignoring the question. "Didn't you hear? We're trying to _fo-cus_!"

"I'm not sure I understand all this. Precisely what are you going to do?" Sarah asked the forth Doctor.

"Whatever it is, I wish they'd hurry it up." Rory said tensely.

"You'll see in a moment, Sarah. Right now, I have to concentrate." The forth Doctor told her as he too stared intently at the console. His right hand hovered, palm side down, over the controls.

"Now. Is everybody ready?" The first Doctor asked in his school master's voice, he too was mimicking the actions of the other Doctors around the console, holding his hand over one of the panels.

One by one, the Doctors surrounded the console, each raising a hand over it.

"Hold on!" The sixth Doctor called out, as he rushed over to the beach chair. "I think it would help if you gave me time to connect Amy to the console."

"Get on with it, then! None of us are looking forward to this, you know." The first Doctor chided him.

A circular rubber headband, with bits of odd-shaped metal and multicolured wires attached to it was held in the sixth Doctor's hand. The wires lead to various parts of the control console. He reached out for Amy. Rory suddenly blocked the Doctor with his arm.

"One question. Is this going to hurt her?" He asked evenly, staring up into the Doctor's eyes.

"Well, it's certainly going to hurt _us_." Came the sixth Doctor's evasive answer, as he checked the connections on the headband. .

"Amy's going to be alright." The eleventh Doctor called out, from his place at the console.

He was now back in his usual bow tie & tweed suit. Before stepping up to the console, he'd quickly shed the singed costume. The Doctor said that if he should happen to die today, he didn't want to kick the bucket looking like a deranged Easter bunny.

"I promise you. She'll be fine, Rory." He told him. "In her present state, she probably won't feel anything more than an itchy, tingling sensation in her scalp.

"But...you said it will hurt." He countered uncertainly.

"You weren't listening. I said it will hurt _us. _As in _us _Time Lords. Amy's not a Time Lord, is she?" The sixth Doctor said, as he gently slipped the odd headgear over Amy's forehead.

"All set here." Said the sixth Doctor, as he walked swiftly back to the console.

Once there, he joined the others. Bracing themselves, the Doctor's shut their eyes. Each holding the palm of his right hand over the controls.

"Now. Everyone who isn't a Time Lord, step away from Amy and the controls." Ordered the first Doctor.

"Back against the walls, you three." Called out the ninth Doctor. "As far away as you can. We don't want to risk any of you getting caught in the bio-chromatic feedback loop."

"The what loop?" Came Tegan's voice from the interior doorway. She was holding two lemons and a pint of blue milk in her hand. "I thought you needed these things?"

"What things?" The fifth Doctor asked. As if he didn't have a clue.

"The things you asked me to get from the...oh, I give up." Tegan sighed. "Would someone mind telling me what the hell's going on?

"Tegan. Don't swear!" the fifth Doctor scolded her. "Just do what he says. Get away from Amy and the console."

"Alright, alright!" Tegan sighed in belligerent resignation, dumping her things on the floor.

"Come on, then. Let's get this over with, girls." Donna said, taking Tegan and Sarah Jane by the hand and leading them to safety. Which she decided was between the wall and the back of the eleventh Doctor's TARDIS.

"Erm—what about me?" Rory asked.

"You're the one wearing a skirt, mate." Donna smirked.

"It's a kilt. And I am wearing leggings underneath, in case you hadn't noticed."

As soon as the four of them were safely out of the way, the first Doctor called out. "Throw the switch!"

Taking a deep breath, the tenth Doctor pushed a big red lever forward. Instantly, a yellow, sparkling glow travelled down the cable from the eleventh Doctor's TARDIS, to the control console. All across the room, wires began sparking, fizzing and smoking.

Suddenly, the glow from the other TARDIS shot out from the contol panel, running through the Doctor's hands and into their bodies. Simultainously, their bodies spasmed. They grimaced, some of them crying out in pain.

Then, just as abruptly, the light shot down the wires connecting to Amy's head. She too, jerked like a puppet on a string...then the light ricocheted back up the wires, and into the eleven Doctors, knocking all of them back onto the floor.

***PERSONAL NOTE** to the guest reviewer with the slightly rude username: _ I'm sorry you were unhappy with my portrayal of Rory in the previous chapter. However, a rewrite of chapter 30 would also have meant a rewrite of this chapter. If I were getting paid for this stuff, and you were the bloke paying my salary, I'd have to undertake a rewrite. But it's just fan fiction. And I'm only some stumbling amateur, literally learning as I go. The BBC won't ever be handing me a paycheck, alas. I write the Doctor Who characters as I've come to know them over the past 31 years. I'm sure I don't always pitch them perfectly, but I do try. That scene with the sword was written knowing that even the most seemingly level-headed human beings can go crackers without prior warning. I hope chapter 31 will keep you reading. But if my choices as a writer don't work for you...c'est la vie. Thanks for taking the time to leave a review. _NBG.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Sparks flew every which way from the seventh Doctor's TARDIS console, as all eleven Doctors were bodily thrown back by the power emanating from inside the eleventh Doctor's ship. While at the same time, the eleventh Doctor's TARDIS gave out an almost human-sounding electronic wail, as if in agony. The glint of flames were suddenly illuminated against the dark blue panel of its open door.

The Doctor's slowly recomposed themselves over the console again. None of them seemed to be aware that the room was becoming smothered in a blanket of white smoke. The only sound was the crackling of the vortex energy discharge, and the occasional cough from one of the companions, still sheltering behind the TARDIS.

Thin streams of sparkling, orange-red energy flowed into each of the Doctors. Abruptly, in one, single burst, it shot out from them down the cable connected to Amy. Her body stiffened as a luminescent glow surrounded her.

Slowly, inexorably, the incandescence faded away from Amy's body. As it did so, a single white hot thread of energy fizzed through her connecting wire, back into the eleven Doctor's. As it hit each of them they shook, sweat breaking out on their foreheads, wide-eyed and grimacing in pain, mouths gaping in silent screams.

There was a pause, just for a second or two, when everything stopped. Then the Doctor's all slumped forward, gasping for air, some falling to their knees in their weakened state.

Donna was the first to cautiously peer out from behind the TARDIS. She ran to her version of the Doctor. He was leaning with his back against the still-smoking console, staring down at his feet.

"Doctor! Are you alright?" She asked, her worried gaze searching the Doctor's face.

The tenth Doctor's head jerked up and he greeted her with a warm smile. "Hello, Donna!" A slight rasp in his voice betrayed his weariness as he told her, "Right as rain. Never felt better!"

Donna responded by smacking him in the arm.

"Oy! What'd I do now?" He whinged, an injured look on his face.

"That's for scaring the life out of me. I thought you were done for."

"I will be if you keep hitting me." He grumbled, before reaching down to give his friend a warm hug. "I'm fine, Donna. Really."

Tegan and Sarah Jane followed suit and went to the sides of the forth and fifth Doctor. After being reassured that the forth Doctor was fine, Sarah made the rounds, checking to see if the other Doctor's were OK.

Rory spared one fleeting, concerned glance for his version of the Doctor. Breathing heavily and leaning over the console, the eleventh Doctor turned his head to look at Rory. He gave him a crooked smile and waggled his hand with a 'hang ten' sign. That was all Rory needed to see, before rushing to Amy's side.

"Amy!" Rory said as he knelt over her, his hands and eyes desperately searching for signs of life. "Amy? Can you hear me?"

"Yes, Rory." Came her groggy voice. "I can hear you. I can also feel you pawing at me like some perv. Mind you, normally that might be a bit of a turn-on. But right now, I could use a little space, yeah?"

" ." Rory held up his hands in surrender and backed off a little. He gave her a cheeky grin. "I can tell you're on the mend. You wouldn't be nagging me, otherwise."

"I nag? Since when do I nag?" Amy protested, sitting up. She frowned, her eyes darting upwards, as her hands felt the wired up headband she wore. "_What_ is this thing doing on my head? You better not have been doing anything kinky while I was lying here, Rory."

He sighed, "Definitely back to normal, then." He bent down, gently removing the headgear. Then he gave Amy a long, loving kiss. "Missed you, Amy Williams." He whispered, pulling back and gazing tenderly into her eyes.

"Oh! Did you _have_ to do that?" Came the eleventh Doctor's disgusted voice from over Rory's shoulder.

He took the headband from Rory, and got busy reeling in the cable connecting

"That definitely wasn't a genetic transfer." The tenth Doctor observed, as he got busy unwiring the seventh Doctor's console.

"Are you going to sit there all day, Pond?" The eleventh Doctor asked Amy, "Or are you going help clean up the mess? That is what human females do, isn't it?

"Oh yes! And then all us girls can don our pinny's and make your tea." Donna said with overly-sweet sarcasm. She crossed her arms and harrumphed. The eleventh Doctor's eyes brightened. He opened his mouth to suggest just that thing, but Donna beat him to it. "No way, you...you...male chauvinist spaceman. You're just like my mate, Steven. The both of you would probably be perfectly happy for us _'girls_' to dress like French maids, go barefoot and get pregnant."

"Actually, Amy's done the whole French maid and pregnant thing, already. Rather not repeat that. Dunno' about the shoes, though." The eleventh Doctor answered. "Have you been barefoot lately?" He asked her.

"Give it up, Donna. Anyway, you make better coffee. Your tea...meh. Not so much." The Tenth Doctor told her, making a face. Nimbly side-stepping away, just in case she decided to hit him again.

"Stop, Doctor. Really. Really. Stop." Amy admonished him, with a cross look. "You're making me sound like a nineteen-fifties cliche. And I was a police woman, not a French maid." She blushed suddenly, realizing a room full of people had just heard her. "Look. It was my job...as a kiss-a-gram. I wasn't like a...you know."

But no one was really listening. Each of the Doctor's were busy getting the seventh Doctor's TARDIS back to normal. The other two women were helping them.

"So what did you do?" Sarah Jane asked the forth Doctor, as he handed her a fistful of odd-shaped components.

"We programmed the console to siphon off the vortex energy that was poisoning Amy. To cleanse her system of it completely" He told her.

"Surely it was much more complicated than that?" She said skeptically.

"Oh yes." The third Doctor said from beside her, as he busied himself unplugging some wires. "Most certainly. What we had to do, Sarah Jane, was feedback energy from the heart of the TARDIS, into us, then into Amy. The feedback acted as a sort of anti venom, drawing out the energy inside her, and into all of me—erm, I mean, us."

"But, wouldn't that kill you?" Tegan asked, as she'd been listening in to the conversation.

"Not at all." The fifth Doctor answered. "Because there were all of us together, the effects were diluted down enough so that all we got was a bit of a headache."

"And a sudden craving for pizza." Said the ninth Doctor, with a puzzled frown.

"It's the ingredients," the sixth Doctor told the companions, "they help to counteract the side effects of vortex absorption."

"Oooh, and I know just the spot." The seventh Doctor said, his face brightening. "There's this little place in Brooklyn called 'Pompeii's Pizza.' Their motto is, 'You'll leave our pizza in ruins.'"

"Sounds a treat! The tenth Doctor agreed enthusiastically. "I could do with a nosh."

"As long as they don't have Pyroviles as waiters," Donna shrugged, "fine by me."

"Or there's 'Dublin Pizza' a little further north, in a place called Glens Falls." Suggested the eighth Doctor. His face took on a rapturous look as he said, "They make a shepherds pie pizza that's absolutely to die for."

"_I'd_ die if I had to eat that." Tegan snorted, making a disgusted face.

"Do they sell a Pepto-Bismol pudding to go with it?" Rory asked.

"We're done here. Now everyone, back you go to your TARDIS'," The first Doctor ordered.

"But...what about Captain Jack?" Said Donna, looking around. "Where'd he get off to?"

In answer, the TARDIS suddenly shook, as a mighty, metallic roar came from outside. Turning on the wall scanner, the occupants of the console room found out where Jack was. He was hanging upside down from the fist of the Kill-bot.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

"Oh my God! Doctor. Don't just stand there, do something!" Donna said. She gripped the tenth Doctor's arm, helplessly watching Captain Jack's flailing, upside down body, gripped in the metallic fist of the giant kill-bot.

The Doctor coughed, waving away the white fumes still hanging in the air. "Getting rid of this smoke would be a start. If that robot doesn't kill us, this certainly will. Maybe we should have an indoor smoking ban in the TARDIS."

"Exhaust fan, on!" Called out the eleventh Doctor.

Nothing happened.

"That won't work. You need to do it manually." The third Doctor shook his head. He went to the controls and flipped a switch. Again, nothing happened.

"Ahem." The seventh Doctor pointedly cleared his throat. "If you'll permit me." He clapped his hands twice. Somewhere a fan motor kicked in, and in seconds the smoke cleared. "I went voice and hands free a while back. Installed a Clapper."

"Doctors!" Captain Jack yelled. "If you can hear me, whatever you do, don't open that door!"

All eyes once again took in the situation. The deadly machine's other 'hand', the one that had a powerful weapon where its fingers should be, was pointing at the TARDIS door. Moonlight no longer glinted off its shiny, smooth black body. The robot was now covered in rock dust and dirt, its metal exterior scuffed and dented by its fall from the cliff.

Like the other Doctor's, the tenth Doctor's face reflected a combination of anxiety and concern, as he took in the situation from the wall screen. His look abruptly steadied. He suddenly knew what he—they, had to do. Calmly, the Doctor detached Donna's hand from his arm. Turning to face his other selves, he drew breath, about to speak—when the eleventh Doctor cut him off.

"OK, I know what do do." The eleventh Doctor announced, whirling about and pointing his index fingers in the air for emphasis. "Get out your sonics!"

The tenth Doctor shot him a dirty look. Then sighed with resignation as his hand retrieved his sonic screwdriver from his suit pocket. The second, third, forth, eighth and ninth Doctor's followed suit. The eleventh Doctor already had his in hand, ready and waiting. He went and stood beside the door.

Without being told, the seventh Doctor's hand rested on a red lever on the console. It was the switch which opened the door.

"You'd better be quick." The first Doctor said, unnecessarily. "You'll only get a split second before that thing opens fire."

"No, really?" The sixth Doctor told him sarcastically. "I never would have guessed."

"Come on, Tegan. You and the others had better take cover behind that TARDIS, again." The fifth Doctor said, shepherding them in that direction.

"I _can_ take care of myself, Doctor." Tegan protested.

"Yes. Yes. I'm sure you can." He conceded, with strained patience, "But let's just err on the side of caution, for once. I—I mean we, have enough to keep us occupied at the moment, without having to worry about you and the others getting hurt, as well."

The fifth Doctor toggled a switch on the control panel. It opened a two-way communication with the outside. The kill-bot bent down, staring. It made a sweep with its gun-hand at the empty air.

"Apparently it's programming software was damaged by the fall." The fifth Doctor observed. "It seems to be unaware that the image of us is merely a video link."

The audio feed into the console room blasted a string of colourful oaths from Captain Jack, as his pistol ran out of ammunition.

"A little help here would be nice, Doctors!" Came his strangled shout.

"What the hell is that thing?" Rory asked, staring at the wall screen.

"Just some walking machine that wants to kill us. You know, the usual." Amy informed him.

"Nothing new there then." Rory shrugged. "So it's what? Like a Cyberman?"

"Not really. It's not alive. It doesn't have a human brain inside. At least, I don't think it does." Amy answered. Taking his hand she told him, "I'm sure the Doctor's will handle it. Come on, Rory. Let's go hide from the big, scary robot."

"That's no fun." He made a face.

"Neither is going to the dentist or getting new tyres put on your car. But you do it, anyway." She reminded him.

"Yeah." He sighed. Then giving Amy a speculative glance, said, "Though I'm pretty sure we can find something to keep us erm—busy, you know, while we're _hiding_."

"Oh, you cheeky boy." Amy grinned, reaching up to kiss his cheek.

"Oy! You two! Not in front of the robot." The eleventh Doctor bellowed at them.

"I'm staying right here." Sarah Jane said firmly, moving to the control panel, instead of the protection of the other TARDIS. "I can help. You'll need someone to distract that thing."

"No, Sarah." The forth Doctor spoke seriously. He standing near the right side wall, just a few feet from the TARDIS door, holding his sonic screwdriver at the ready. "Not this time, I'm afraid. You wouldn't stand a chance."

"I might, however. Since Time Lord reflexes are a tad quicker than your average human." The sixth Doctor spoke up. He smiled at Sarah Jane. "It's not a bad idea. You never know. It might just work."

"Young lady, I admire your bravery. But I do rather think it would be advisable for you to take cover." The first Doctor suggested to her. He gestured to the eleventh Doctor's TARDIS. "If you'd perhaps be so kind as to get out of the way, so we can get on with things? That would be most helpful, I assure you."

"There. You see? Patronizing the girls again. What'd I tell you?" Donna said to no one in particular, as she ducked behind the eleventh Doctor's TARDIS. "Even Time Lords have a male superiority complex." She sniffed. "So much for them being all-powerful."

"I never thought of him that way. But you know, you're kind of right?" Amy agreed, as she stood looking around the back corner of the eleventh Doctor's TARDIS at him and the other Doctor's.

"I thought you said he was a bit gay?" Rory said.

"I said his bow tie was gay. That's totally taking what I said out of context, Rory. What are you? A journalist, now?" She patted one of the blue wooden panels. "I mean, he does call this thing 'sexy' all the time. Wouldn't catch a woman doing that."

"You do what?" The fifth Doctor's head came up. He raised his eyebrows at the eleventh Doctor, a slight smile of amusement playing on his lips. "Oh, don't tell me! You've added a empathy circuit to the TARDIS. I never needed anything like that, in my day."

"Even so, you still do an awful lot of petting, Doctor—" Sarah Jane began.

Much to his discomfort, the eleventh Doctor suddenly found he had to defend himself.

"Oh, it's merely a turn of phrase. You know. Like, 'Word!" And 'groovy' and 'felgacarb'. Though technically, that last one's more of a swear word. Sorry about that. I call a lot of things 'sexy'. Well, except for maybe Capitan Jack. Wouldn't want to encourage him...or that amorous Judoon I met on Rigel 7. Word of advice there. When a Judoon wearing high heels and lipstick offers to buy you a drink, walk away. Very quickly. And under no circumstances should you ever call him 'sexy.'"

"Speaking of Jack. If we could move on. I think he's starting to pass out. All the blood's rushing to his brain." Said the ninth Doctor.

"Well, that'll certainly be a novel experience for him." The tenth Doctor commented wryly, a flicker of a smile darting across his face. "Usually its headed in the other direction."

Jack, hanging by one leg, had been firing off rounds into the kill-bot. To little effect. Other than adding a few more minor dents to the kill-bot's protective armour. Now Jack's gun was empty, and his face was rapidly turning a mottled purple and white turnipy colour.

"Right now. We have to time this perfectly. Is everybody ready?" The ninth Doctor asked, holding his sonic screwdriver in his fist.

"Never been more readier." The eleventh Doctor replied.

"Readier?" Said the second Doctor, cocking an eyebrow at him. "My, your grammar needs a bit of a brush up, doesn't it?"

"I've been visiting America a lot, lately." The eleventh Doctor explained.

"Oh. I see. That explains everything." The second Doctor nodded.

"Hang on. Just gotta' get this right." The tenth Doctor said. He'd donned his brainy specs and had his face up to his sonic, trying to work out the setting he needed.

The tenth Doctor beamed when everything finally clicked into place. "Got it! We're good to go, now."

All of the Doctor's holding sonic screwdrivers positioned themselves to either side of the door. The sixth Doctor then placed himself in front of the white wall with its roundels, waiting for the door to swing open. He stood poised, tense. Ready to make himself a living target for the kill-bot.

"Alright. On my mark!" The seventh Doctor said from his place beside the console.

"Wait. Who put you in charge?" The eighth Doctor asked indignantly.

"In case you've forgotten, this is my TARDIS." Was his answer. "Now, are we all ready?"

The Doctor's with him all nodded their agreement.

"Just get on with it, already!" The sixth Doctor said impatiently, removing his colourful jacket. "I can't hold this pose forever. I'm not a walking duck decoy, you know."

"You humans had better cover your ears." The first Doctor said, checking on the five companions taking cover behind the eleventh Doctor's TARDIS. "This may get a bit loud for you."

"Counting down." The seventh Doctor called out. "Five...four...three...two..." His hand thrust the door lever forward, "_NOW_!"

The interior door swung inward. The sixth Doctor, waving his jacket, caught the attention of the kill-bot. As the machine brought its weapon to bear, the other Doctor's who held sonic screwdrivers joined forces. Their sonics raised as one, they pressed down simultaneously. The noise emitting from seven of the devices at one time, seemed to rattle the robot to its very core.

The kill-bot began to vibrate. Then it shook violently. It suddenly released Jack, dropping him abruptly on to the stony, muddy ground. Components began to fall from its head and body. The robot turned and juddered away from the TARDIS with wobbly, lumbering steps. It hadn't gone more than a hundred meters, when its head and torso were ripped apart by a violent explosion.

Picking himself up gingerly, Jack staggered back to the TARDIS.

"One! Whatever happened to one? In a countdown, one is supposed to come after two." The tenth Doctor complained to the seventh. His arms caught Jack, as he staggered into the TARDIS. "Whoa! You alright, Jack?"

"What?" Jack asked loudly, shaking his head. "I can't hear you. I think the sonic noise messed with my hearing a little."

A short while later, everyone was readying for their departure. Captain Jack had used a gravis gun he had hidden in his air force coat, to put a deep hole in the floor of the quarry. Just as the sky lightened from the black of night to the first sapphire tinges of dawn, and the first birds began their tentative chirping, Jack got rid of the robot. He'd climbed up on one of the quarry's bucket loaders and started it up. Using the machine, he pushed the robot into the hole. Covering the hole with dirt, he then lowered the bucket and pushed an enormous boulder over it.

As they were departing back to their own TARDIS, Sarah Jane paused.

"Wait a second. What about all of this?" She asked the forth Doctor, as he busily re-wound his long scarf about his shoulders.

"What about what?"

"What I mean is, won't this be a bit complicated, later on? Now you know what your future selves are like, and everything else that happened here tonight?

"Ah. I see." the forth Doctor said, with a mischievous smile, "How can it happen, if it's already happened?"

"Post-it notes!" Said the fifth Doctor, smiling at her. "Very handy invention of mine. I'll just pop round and leave messages for my other selves."

"I thought some American invented..." Said Donna, who'd been listening in, "...oh, never mind. But what about all that fixed point in history stuff? Won't that give you problems?"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about that. It really won't be an issue." The tenth Doctor said, slipping into his long coat. "You see all these TARDIS' in one place at one time will cause the time stream to go a bit wibbly-wobbly."

"Yes!" Agreed the second Doctor. "If we all dematerialize at the same time, it will cause a localized temporal shift. None of us will remember anything of what happened.

"We'll all go back to where we were before this started." The third Doctor nodded. "For all intents and purposes, this will never have happened."

"So, the two of us will merely end up in a field full of cows, get back in the TARDIS, and try again?" Tegan asked the fifth Doctor.

"Yes! Something like that." He agreed. "Now, shall we go?"

"And maybe I finally can get some peace and quiet!" The first Doctor said waving his cane at them, as he left.

"I'm afraid I won't be getting much of that." The second Doctor sighed, as he waved goodbye. "I've got to go and rescue Jamie & Zoe from the charge of the light brigade. Good thing neither of them is allergic to horses, or I'd really have a mess on my hands. Farewell, all!"

One by one, the other Doctor's departed, leaving the seventh Doctor to set about cleaning up after them. Which he was quite content to do, as he had planned on doing a little remodeling, anyway. He was feeling very nostalgic, all of the sudden. Maybe a retro look? He thought. Some nouveau-Victorian decor? He rather fancied dark paneling, ornate furnishings and bookshelves. He pictured himself reading before a roaring fire, with something jazzy playing on the Victrola.

"Right. So, we're we off to, then?" Donna asked the tenth Doctor, as they walked back out into the night.

"I dunno', what do you think?"

"Is there a shopping mall planet anywhere about? Cos' these shoes are pretty much ruined, walking around in this muck." She said, staring down at her muddy feet.

The tenth Doctor gave a visible wince, as he skirted around a deep puddle. "Oh no! Anything but that! Why not ask me to take you to Skaro as well, while you're at it?"

"So, Amy's OK now?" Rory asked the eleventh Doctor, as they said their goodbye's and stepped into the TARDIS.

"Amy's walking right behind you, and I can ask that for myself, Rory." She said, annoyed to have her husband talking about her as if she wasn't there.

"That's answer your question?" The eleventh Doctor answered.

"Totally." Rory nodded, giving a martyred sigh.

"Excuse me?" A suddenly miffed Amy nudged Rory.

"Sorry." he apologized.

"Male chauvinist." The Doctor smirked, as he strode over to the console and shut the door.

THE END

_**HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO THE BEST. TV. SHOW. EVER. FOR 31 YEARS I'VE ADORED DOCTOR WHO. THE PROGRAMME EVEN (IN AN OFF-HAND WAY), SAVED MY LIFE. I SINCERELY BELIEVE THAT EVERYONE INVOLVED WITH DOCTOR WHO— THE ACTORS, PRODUCERS, WRITERS & PRODUCTION STAFF, ARE THE COOLEST PEOPLE ON SOL 3 (AKA: 'EARTH'). THANKS FOR YOUR DEDICATION AND CREATIVE GENIUS . **_

_AND THANKS ALSO, GOES OUT TO THOSE FANS WHO TOOK THE TIME NOT ONLY TO READ THIS STORY, BUT TO LEAVE SO MANY LOVELY REVIEWS. THOUGH I'VE BEEN UNABLE TO RESPOND TO ALL OF THEM, IT'S BEEN DEEPLY APPRECATIED AND ABSOLUTELY GOBSMACKING. _

_HUGS TO ALL, NANCY G. _

_**PS: Sending positive thoughts out to Janet "Tegan" Fielding. You're an inspiration to us all. **_


End file.
